Heart of Stone
by A. K. Hunter
Summary: With the swing of a knife, their lives were torn apart. Three years later, Alexis is determined to find her missing other half and get justice for the horrifying crime that separated them, not knowing that Kevin has long-since made a deal with the devil, and some bonds aren't so easily broken. Summer Hiatus 2015 Ficathon Entry. Sequel to In My Veins.
1. Chapter One

Heart of Stone

by

A.K. Hunter

Chapter One

"So hard to move on, still loving what's gone. They say life carries on." - Peter Gabriel, "I Grieve"

* * *

There's a saying that goes "dying is easy. Living is hard." In the days and months and since the trauma surgeons had forced her dead heart to start beating, Alexis Castle had learned that lesson well.

She had learned it the night she'd woken up in the ICU, feeling like she'd been broken in half. Her father was alone by her side, holding her pale hand. He'd kissed her face, held her close, showed her pictures of her newborn baby sister, Joanna. And then he'd quietly informed her that Kevin was gone. Not dead, just missing. He'd disappeared without a trace, taking her future with him.

She had learned it by watching the faces of her loved ones, the worry and grief they carried with them as days turned into weeks and then turned into months and there was no sign of Kevin. No sign of the men who had torn her life apart.

She had learned it during months of therapy, both physical and mental. Dull pain in her chest that flared with every breath. Nightmares that turned into waking dreams. A scar that would never fade.

She had learned it the day her father, Kate, and Javier cleaned out Kevin's apartment. Afterwards, Alexis had a single crate of possessions—some hers, some his, some theirs—to remember the life they had. The ring box sat inside, gathering dust. She never opened it.

She had learned it in all the nights she lay awake, wondering how everything could have gone so wrong so fast. She'd woken up to the smell of pancakes, a smell that now made her physically ill, and hours later she was flatlining in an ambulance.

She had learned it in the questions that haunted her every second of every day. Where had Kevin gone? How could he have just abandoned her?

By the time her father handed her the plane ticket, Alexis was an expert in life's disappointments. She needed a change of scenery, he had said. She would stay with her mother and finish medical school at UCLA. Everything was arranged. He'd never asked if it was what she wanted, and she hadn't fought him on it. The fear in his eyes, an emotion that was present every time he looked at her, had grown since she'd awoken in that hospital room. He'd lost her once, and after months of watching Alexis sink into herself, slowly smothering under the weight of memories and unanswered questions, he feared he would lose her again. She knew he wouldn't budge, and even if he could be moved, she didn't have the energy to fight. She barely had the energy to breathe.

Dying _had been_ easy. It was easier than medical school, easier than falling in love, easier than falling asleep. She'd lost everything, and instead of looking to the future with excitement, Alexis was faced with the cold reality of a lifetime defined by one horrifying event.

The best she could do was hope that one day living wouldn't be so hard.

* * *

A shrill ringtone roused the sleeping inhabitant from her warm bed. With a groan and a loud thwack, Alexis pulled the cell phone from her bedside table, fumbled with the touch screen, and pressed it against her ear.

"What?" she croaked.

A voice spoke on the other end, informing her that it was time to get to work. The dead waited for nobody. She rolled off her mattress, carelessly waking the man sharing the bed with her. What was his name again? James? Mark?

"..the hell?" he muttered, lifting his head from the pillow and glancing at her alarm clock. "Who's calling you at six a.m.?"

"Work," she said shortly, turning on the bedroom lights.

"You a doctor?"

"Something like that." She yanked the comforter from his grasp. "It's time for you to leave."

"What?"

"I've got to shower and get to work. You can't stay here."

"Uh... Okay." He rolled out of bed and started dressing. Alexis wished she remembered his name. He seemed like a nice guy, and he was pretty cute. "When do you get off work?" he asked.

"Why?"

"I'd like to buy you dinner," he said with a sheepish smile.

Alexis paused, clad in only in the skimpy red dress she had worn the night before. "Dinner?"

"Yeah. I would have liked to buy you breakfast. Get to know you a bit better. I mean, last night was…" He blushed, "Amazing."

Alexis sighed. Why did he have to get clingy? When you pick up a guy in a bar, that guy usually comes with a specific set of expectations. Why couldn't he just call it was it was? "You don't want to get to know me better. I promise."

He shook his head, and she inwardly groaned. She really didn't have time for this. She impatiently tugged down the neckline of her dress, revealing the secret she'd been hiding, the one thing that would ensure that he'd stay away.

She watched with sick satisfaction as his eyes widened in pleasant-surprise-turned-horror. If he thought he'd get a chance to ogle the one part of her he hadn't seen yet, he was wrong. The giant scar running down her breastbone pretty much killed any morning-after attraction.

"Three years ago a madman gutted me like a fish. On that same day my boyfriend disappeared and I never saw him again. To this day I still wonder what happened to him. I'm not the healing kind of doctor. I'm a medical examiner, which means I spend my days cutting open dead bodies. I don't mind it. In fact, I really enjoy it. In my experience dead people are much better than live ones. I don't want a relationship, and I don't want to make a new friend. I just wanted someone to fuck me, which you did admirably. There—now you know a little more about me. You sure you want to stick around?"

His eyes widened even more, and after swallowing thickly, he looked down at the floor. "I, uh, I'd better go."

She rolled her eyes and tugged her dress back up. "Brilliant idea."

The front door to her apartment slammed shortly thereafter, and Alexis headed to the shower. Her stomach twisted in a mix of disappointment and relief. He wasn't the first guy who'd been scared off by her acerbic brand of reality. He wouldn't be the last.

She stepped among the countless unopened boxes scattered across her apartment, tripping over one of them and upending the box. Several notebooks scattered across the floor. Her eyes fell on one of the open pages.

 _Dear Kevin,_

 _Dr. Roth told me to write my feelings. He said it would help me process. I don't know what I'm feeling anymore, so I'm writing to you._

Alexis muttered expletives, putting the box upright and replacing the notebook. She hurried to the shower, washing away any remnants of the night before.

A small part of her regretted being so rude to... Whatever his name was. Maybe if she'd been nicer to him, maybe if she'd let him buy her dinner. Of course, that guy seemed a little too nice for someone like her. She stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel. She wiped the fog away from the mirror, taking in her pale face and the circles under her eyes.

In the mirror she saw the red mark that started an inch above the towel. She closed her eyes, and she was back in the warehouse, her skin going cold with each futile beat of her heart. Her body numb to everything but the warm, bloodstained hands on her face. Tear-filled blue eyes stared down at her, knowing well that she was dying.

 _"Alexis, please-"_

 _"I love you."_

 _"Alexis—stay with me. Please, just… hold on."_

She shook herself. Who was she kidding? Whatshisface would have been out the door even if she'd been nice. Baggage like hers wasn't a turn on—it was a red flag.

Alexis dressed in a hurry, plaiting back her damp hair and heading out the door. The crisp January air was merciless to her wet locks, but she didn't turn back. She didn't want to leave her patient waiting. She'd started her post-graduate internship with the NYPD a few weeks earlier, and being back in New York after two and a half years was sort of surreal.

Memories jumped out of every alley. Fun adventures with childhood friends, quality time spent with her father and grandmother, and so many memories of _him_. She could fill a book with the images of Kevin that haunted her each and every step. Alexis tried not to focus too much on the memories that threatened to smother her. She wasn't that person anymore. That wasn't her life anymore.

The body was laid out on the concrete, a young man who had obviously died from a gunshot wound to the head. Though the weapon was placed in the man's hands, it was clearly a murder. The man's fingers had been broken in a methodical way, a way that spelled torture. And a tortured man with ruined hands simply wasn't capable of pulling a trigger.

"Alexis?"

"Dr. Harper," she corrected as she looked up from the body, her gaze landing on a familiar pair of brown eyes.

"Liam?" she asked.

"Detective Burke," he corrected with a small smile.

Something akin to a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, and though it felt a little strange, she found herself genuinely happy to see him. She held her hand out in a professional yet friendly gesture and he sidestepped the body, briefly enveloping her in a hug.

"You're the new ME I've been hearing about? I had no idea you were back in town. I just closed a case with your dad and Detective Esposito a few days ago-"

"I've only just moved back," she said. "Dad doesn't exactly know yet."

Liam frowned at her response, and she quickly directed him elsewhere. "So, I've got some info on your victim," she said. He nodded, and she walked him through the particulars of the man's death.

"I know this guy," Liam said. "Mike something... Flynn maybe? He's a street boss for the Irish mob."

"Is that why he was tortured? He screwed up?"

Liam shook his head. "Mike's not the first guy we've seen tortured for his involvement. Not even the first this month. All the gangs are at each other's throats. Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll take each other out."

Alexis smiled tightly as the body was prepped for transport to the morgue. "You know we're not that lucky."

"True enough," he frowned at her appearance. "Didn't they issue you a bulletproof vest?"

"Yeah. It's at home. MEs don't go into the line of fire."

"Times have changed. Five MEs have been killed at scenes in the last three years. We're upping the protection. Don't leave it at home next time."

Her eyes widened, and she nodded. "Good to know."

Apparently finished with dark subjects, Liam's face brightened again as he said, "So I hear you were top of your class at UCLA."

She grimaced. "That's correct."

"And you graduated a semester early too, right? Castle won't stop bragging about you. His amazing twice-valedictorian daughter who finished med school early."

She forced a polite smile, trying to ignore the discomfort that twisted inside her stomach whenever she thought about her father. She still couldn't quite reconcile the man who had sent her away with the man who would brag about her accomplishments. "So what's new with you? Besides making detective?"

He shrugged, blushing. "Well, I'm getting married in a few months."

"Really?"

"Her name's Lily. She's a nurse."

Another smile, a real one this time, stretch across her face. "Wow. I'm so happy for you. That's such great news."

He blushed again then cleared his throat. "So what about you? Are you seeing anyone? Let me guess, you're leaving behind hoards of heartbroken new doctors back at UCLA."

Just like that, the small flame of happiness inside her chest sputtered out. "Med school isn't exactly conducive to dating."

He nodded, suddenly looking all-too-understanding, and she kind of wanted to punch him. "Well, I'm heading to the hospital. I'll call you if I find out anything new."

"Hey."

She stopped, turning back to the detective, who seemed to be mulling something over in his mind.

"What are you doing after work? Want to get drinks and catch up?"

Alexis could literally think of ten things she'd rather do than "catch up" with the detective. She knew what that phrase meant, and she knew that he would have questions that she couldn't answer in a satisfactory way. "Not tonight. Rain check?"

"Sure. It's good to have you back."

This time she couldn't smile. She couldn't tell a lie that big and pretend to be happy about it. That level of self-deception was one she hadn't yet sunk to. "It's good to be back."

* * *

There was nothing so grounding and comforting for Alexis as working in the morgue. In the last two and a half years, she'd grown used to the smell of formaldehyde, had gained a sense of camaraderie from the dead bodies sharing the space with her. Those cadavers held answers to questions, mysteries that haunted their surviving family and friends. With scalpel in hand, her mind letting go of everything but the physiology and forensic science in front of her, Alexis was limitless. She could do anything. She could find all the answers.

The victim's body was laid out in front of her, and she carefully looked for evidence. He'd been tortured then shot in the head. That much she knew. That much was clear right from the start. But by whom? And for what cause? She turned on the voice recorder, relaying the patient's information into it. Then she drew her scalpel across his chest to make the first incision.

Her therapist had been reluctant to let her return to her schoolwork as an ME. He'd thought that the dead bodies and knives would trigger her, everything else seemed to.

Despite the obvious similarities between cutting a dead man's chest open and what had happened to her three years earlier, Alexis didn't fear the knives she worked with. The morgue was her one safe place, the one place where she wasn't a victim. She wasn't the twenty-two-year-old whose life had been ripped out from beneath her feet. The girl whose boyfriend up and left, leaving her dead body in a warehouse. She wasn't broken, damaged, or even hurt. She was a fact-finder. She was a helper, a healer of wounds that most doctors could never touch. Alexis knew better than most what it was like to wonder, how much it hurt to not know, to never see closure. It had become her mission to make sure that nobody else felt that way, not if she could help it.

The morgue doors swung open, and Alexis glanced up from her patient. Her eyes widened when she saw Lanie in her street clothes with a toddler on her hip. For half a second, Alexis' attention was locked on the child. She'd heard about him, Lanie and Javi's baby, but she'd never met him. He stared at her wordlessly, all long eyelashes and chocolate-brown eyes. Alexis hurriedly covered her patient with a drape and set her tools aside.

"Hey," Lanie said.

"Who is this?"

The ME moved closer, allowing Alexis a better look at her son, who merely snuggled up to his mother. "This is Aaron."

Alexis smiled softly. "He's going to be a heartbreaker."

"Just like his father."

An uncomfortable silence settled in. "I thought the wedding was back on," Alexis said.

"It is." Lanie shrugged, adjusting the child on her hip. "I talked to Kate this morning. She thinks you're still in LA."

Alexis cringed at the subject change. "I'm going to tell them."

"When?"

"Eventually. Once I get settled."

"You always were a terrible liar."

Alexis had run into Lanie her first day back in New York. It had taken a lot to convince the ME not to tell Alexis' family that she'd come back. The redhead had always planned to tell her family, she just wasn't ready to face them yet. Alexis' phone started ringing, and her dad's name flashed across the display. She declined the call. The voicemail would tell her what she needed to know, and she wasn't really in the mood to talk to him. She'd already faked enough happiness for one day.

"You should talk to him."

Alexis glanced up at her friend, then slid her phone back in her pocket. "So what's the special occasion? Is it bring your toddler to the morgue day?"

"I'm just here to get a couple things from my office, and don't you try to change the subject. That man loves you and worries about you all the time. The least you could do is answer his calls."

The redhead returned to her place by the exam table. "I'm working."

Lanie rolled her eyes and walked into her office. On her way out, she stopped and looked back at the redhead. "You of all people should know better than to take your loved ones for granted. You need to call him, Alexis, because you might wake up one day and find out he's not around to ignore anymore." Lanie let the doors fall shut behind her, and Alexis was left alone.

Alexis stared at the doors for a while, trying to breathe around the knot in her throat. Finally, she swallowed thickly and pulled the drape off of her patient. She would talk to him. Really. But first she had a case to solve.

* * *

Alexis walked into her apartment, exhausted to the bone. She dropped her purse next to the door and immediately headed to the kitchen. She threw some takeout in the microwave and listened to the voicemail her father had left while she waited for her food to heat.

"Hi, Alexis. It's me. I'm just calling to check in. I wanted to know how you're liking your new internship in LA. I'm so proud of you." Alexis heard a high-pitched voice on the other line and a muffling over the receiver. "Oh, Joanna wants to say hi."

"Hi 'Lexis! Miss you," the girl said.

Alexis couldn't hide the grin that spread over her face. She loved her little sister. Joanna was the one bright spot in the last three years. Her dad returned to the phone. "Anyway, just call me back when you get some time. I love you honey. Bye."

Alexis sat for a minute after the call ended, considering calling her father back. Lanie's admonitions rang in her head. How long did she really expect to stay in New York without her family knowing about it? She picked up the phone, letting it rest in her palm. Maybe it was time for them to talk.

He'd likely be upset to know she was back in New York, that she'd been back for nearly a month without telling him. What if he didn't want her there? Castle had sent her to LA in the hope that it would help her, that he would get his daughter back, but Alexis knew he would never get his wish. The daughter he loved and missed had died nearly three years earlier, and what was the left, the person Alexis was now, was just a cruel reminder of what he'd lost. She couldn't call him, couldn't be that reminder. He'd already sent her away once. She wasn't sure she could survive a second rejection.

Alexis turned off her phone and opened up her computer. She unlocked up a password-protected file, searching through the sparse contents. The prominent document in the nearly empty file was her own medical chart. Words like _fatal blood loss_ and _hypovolemic_ _shock_ swam in front of her. The next document contained a headline 'NYPD detective missing, presumed dead.' This was her new pastime, the real reason she'd come back to New York. She didn't have much, but it was a start. Hopefully she'd be able to get more new leads soon.

Alexis dug through her boxes until she found a fresh notebook and started writing.

 _Dear Kevin_ ,

 _It's been three years and they still haven't found you. They still haven't found the men who hurt us._

 _I can't wait around anymore. I'm back in New York._

 _I'm going to find you._

* * *

A heart monitor beeped in regular cadence, echoing the heartbeat of the old man in the hospital bed. Tubes ran from the man's body, pulling out toxins as effectively as they shunted poison back in. How ironic that the one thing that would save him was also doing its best to kill him.

"And Mike O'Hara?" the man asked his companion.

"Taken care of." The younger man answered. "Gave us some pretty useful info too."

"You know what to do."

The young man nodded, then left the room. As he walked down the hallway, he pulled a package of cigarettes out of his suit jacket, lighting one with the mindless efficiency of a daily habit. He pulled the carcinogenic cloud into his lungs, letting it settle briefly before exhaling.

"You know it's illegal to smoke in a hospital."

He turned around, his eyes landing on a petite blonde in hospital scrubs. "Good thing this isn't a hospital." He took another drag to prove his point.

"I still can't believe you continue that filthy habit when every day you get to look at what can happen to you."

He affectionately mussed the woman's hair, knowing he was the only one who could do that and survive. "Don't worry, Brig. I'm going to be around a long time."

"What did Nolan want?" she asked.

"He's got another job for me."

"You just finished-"

"Well, it's not over yet." He paused. "You still have an admirer inside the NYPD?"

"Why?"

"Mickey's in one the morgues, and I need to pay a visit."

"I'll ask my guy."

He nodded and carelessly dropped his cigarette onto the polished hardwood, putting it out with the toe of his shoes. Nolan would be furious if he knew his home was being disrespected like that. Brigid suspected that was exactly why her brother did it. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket.

"Where are you going?"

"I've got a date."

She frowned. "You know that's unhealthy."

"I'm good at unhealthy."

"Kevin-"

He waived her off. "You need to learn to relax."

Brigid stared at her brother, took in the slouch of his shoulders and the devil-may-care smirk on his face. His eyes were hard, closed off to her. "It's bad today, isn't it?"

Kevin leaned in and brushed his lips across her cheek. "Keep the old man alive for me."

"Kevin-" she began, but it was too late.

He was already gone.

* * *

It wasn't a date. Not really. It was his one allowance. The one weakness he allowed himself.

Kevin panted into the hollow of her neck as his hips moved against hers in that age-old rhythm. His body had long since taken the lead, leaving his mind to travel back.

His lips dragged up to her mouth, and he pulled back to look in her eyes. His heart stopped at what he saw there. Bright blue eyes stared back at him, love and pleasure shining in them. One hand twined into her long, red hair as he pressed his lips against hers. He could kiss her every day, every moment, until the end of time.

She bit his bottom lip and wrapped her legs more tightly around him. His name slipped through her lips, and he jerked his hips forward. He broke away from her mouth, watching her fall to pieces against him. Between the blush that spread down her chest and the blissed out expression in her vivid eyes, he'd never seen such a beautiful sight. Christ, he loved her.

His heart stuttered as pleasure overloaded his senses, and he held her close, almost too tight, savoring the sensation of her heart racing under his fingertips, the way her flawless bare chest rose and fell against his.

He felt her lips against his neck and he kept his eyes shut. Endorphins were slipping from his alcohol-soaked synapses faster than he could catch them.

"That was," she gasped, her voice sounding all wrong, "amazing." She gently pushed against his arms, and Kevin rolled onto his back, contentment turning to despair.

"I mean, wow."

He opened his eyes, staring up at his bedroom ceiling. He would look anywhere but at her. Anything to keep the waking dream from shattering right in front of him.

Her lips smothered his, and his eyes focused, against his will, on the woman sharing his bed. Green eyes. Light brown hair. A tall, lithe build. She grinned at him, revealing a crooked smile.

She was beautiful. There was nothing wrong with the woman in front of him. Nothing at all, except she wasn't who he wanted.

Pain settled over his chest, and he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. She leaned down to kiss him again, the clumsy, well-meaning affection of someone who'd had too much to drink, and he sat up before her lips could land on their mark.

"You should go."

It was the same routine every time he allowed himself to indulge in his memories. Mix far too much alcohol with a woman whose name he never learned, fuck until that moment of connection, those precious seconds when he felt _her_ close. Not the woman he was in bed with, but the woman he missed so much he hadn't been able to breathe for three years.

The brunette argued, called him names, then left the room with the door slamming behind her. It was all part of the script. He didn't move, just lay on the sex-smelling sheets, begging his fractured mind to find her. See her again. Draw out the dream just a little longer.

Her name rested on his tongue, never passing his lips.

His eyes closed, and he saw bright blue irises, heard laughter that banged around inside his long-cold heart. This was how he wanted to remember her. This was how she had really been: vibrant, like a sun that had burst into his world, forever changing his trajectory.

 _"I would have said yes."_

He gulped for air as traitorous tears pricked in his eyes. She was gone. Long-since cold in her grave. And these indulgences, these broken attempts to connect, were the best he would ever have. He would never see her again, hear her laugh or taste her lips. She was dead, taken, violently ripped from existence.

Kevin had learned the hard way that love made you weak, and weakness was a liability. His weakness had gotten her killed, and still he couldn't let go. Three years had passed and he still loved her, even as the cruel weight of reality hung heavy over his shoulders.

She was dead. It was his fault. And those pathetic, half-crazed moments with her ghost were all he had left.

* * *

Author's Note: It's looking pretty bleak for these two, but that means things can only improve from here, right? For those interested, I've created a Spotify playlist for this story. PM me for details.

A million thanks to everyone who supported _In My Veins_ and helped make this story possible. I just love you guys.

Please, please, please review.

Best,

A.K. Hunter


	2. Chapter Two

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Two

"I've got a thick skin and an elastic heart, but your blade—it might be too sharp." - Sia, "Elastic Heart"

* * *

She was working late again, following up on Kevin's case as time permitted. It seemed like the only time she had anymore to follow their cases was in stolen moments before or after her already exhausting shifts. She was hunched over her desk, staring at the CSU files on her own murder attempt.

The scene had more or less been clean—besides her blood—the weapon had never been found, and those two men, Brigid, and Kevin had all but disappeared. There wasn't a match for any of the fingerprints left at the scene. It didn't make sense. How was it possible that he had so effectively dropped off the face of the Earth? How had the people who hurt her left no evidence behind?

Alexis was beginning to understand how it was possible that no leads or advances had been made in the case in three years. It seemed like there were no leads to begin with. Except she had been stabbed. Killed really. And if Kevin was dead, wouldn't there be a body? Wouldn't there be some forensic evidence somewhere? And if he wasn't dead… why hadn't he come back? Why hadn't he left clues for them to find him? The same set of questions spun in her mind on a continuous loop. No matter how many times she approached them, she didn't have an answer.

She rested her head in her hands, trying to blink away the exhaustion. Early mornings and late nights were wearing on her. She'd been back in New York for nearly two months, and besides logging hours at her internship, she was making no progress. She hadn't found Kevin; she hadn't even unpacked her apartment.

She still hadn't contacted her family. She had never meant to stay in New York for so long without their knowledge, but as time passed it grew harder and harder to try to talk to them. She'd been lucky enough to not work with Javier on a case yet. Liam, Lanie, and Perlmutter wouldn't tell her family, but Javi likely would. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Javi and Lanie seemed to be on the outs again, and he didn't come by unless work demanded it.

She tiredly rested her head on her desk. Her professional cases weren't doing any better than her personal ones. The criminals in the city had gotten a lot smarter. All of the amateur murders, crimes of passion committed by the inexperienced, those were easy enough to catch. But the professional crimes, like the man in the morgue with ruined hands and a bullet in his brain, those ones were getting harder and harder to unravel. Liam hadn't been kidding when he'd said that things had changed.

Alexis' eyes fell closed, and her mind jumped from case to case, professional and personal, mixing with the narrative of her friends and family. Everything was different, not just the crimes. Life had fundamentally changed for everyone around her. Her life had changed, though she didn't want it to, and yet here she was, pulling extra hours, barely sleeping in her quest to put together the broken pieces of her old life. She didn't want to be the only one holding on, but it seemed like if she didn't do it, no one would. She had to at least try….

Her elbow slipped off the edge of her desk and she jolted awake. How long had she been dozing? She coughed as an acrid scent filled her nose and coated her throat, and panic woke her tired mind as she saw the smoke spilling in from under her office door. Something was on fire. Coughing, her eyes stinging against the smoke, she wrapped the sleeve of her shirt around her hand before touching the doorknob. Heat instantaneously sank through the material and she yanked her hand back.

There was a fire on the other side of her door. She was trapped.

* * *

His mother had called him a changeling—a fairy child of unknown origin. He'd never belonged to her, she had said, he'd never belonged to anybody. It wasn't so bad, not belonging. When you didn't belong to anyone but yourself, you could move unseen, blend with the crowd, put on and pull off identities as needed.

For fifteen years he'd belonged. He'd found a home, a family, friends, but now he was alone again. There was a power in that loneliness, in being free from the consequences and expectations of a mundane life, from all the feelings that come packaged with belonging to other people. Changelings didn't feel. Their hearts were cold. It was easier to be alone than to belong, or so he'd been trying to convince himself.

He stepped through the halls of the empty hospital basement. Not a single living soul shared the floor with him, though there were plenty of bodies. It was all happening according to plan. In the modern age, most evidence lived on an imaginary plane—a sequence of ones and zeros. That was easy enough to access, and if you knew the right people, it was easy enough to destroy.

The morgue held the other side of things. The evidence made up of carbon and oxygen and nitrogen was much more fragile, but much harder to destroy.

Hospitals were easy to burn. There were so many combustible chemicals. The tricky part had been clearing the floor, and they only had about ten minutes to pull off the entire plan. He took great satisfaction in watching the place burn. There were so many memories, memories of dead bodies and now-dead body examiners. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her standing over the exam table.

He shook himself. Now wasn't the time to be falling apart, to try to connect with someone who was gone. Now was the time to burn the evidence. Evidence of crimes and evidence of his memories. It was all headed toward the same fate.

Brigid's tip had proven useful. He'd found Mike O'Hara's body—along with several other familiar faces—in the chilled drawers. And while it was unlikely that the coroner's office would get much evidence from the body, Kevin had been so careful as he broke the man's fingers and laid the still-hot gun in his hand, Nolan had been very clear. All the evidence would go.

He covered his face with the inside of his leather jacket as the smoke and heat began to spread. The sprinklers and alarm systems had been disabled. No help would come until the fire spread, until his partner made the anonymous call. For several seconds, he stood in front of the growing inferno, mesmerized. He hated fires. They reminded him too much of the night he'd been trapped in that burning building. The night Sarah Grace was born, but he wouldn't think about that. The plan was solid; the execution was simple. Nobody would get hurt, and Nolan would get the clean slate he'd always wanted. A win-win.

The fire had spread through most of the basement. Given a little more time, and it would consume the entire level. It was time to make his exit. He turned around, heading towards the all-too-familiar stairway.

A feminine scream ripped through the floor, and the hairs rose on the back of his neck. He turned around, his ears catching on a muffled cry for help. Smoke rose in great billows, just as deadly as the fire. He shook his head in disbelief. The floor was supposed to be empty.

The cries continued, and indecision warred within him. It was suicide. The poor soul trapped in the inferno would be dead within minutes. The smoke would kill them if the fire didn't. And there was no guarantee that he could make it out if he went back in.

Another cry echoed through the floor, barely audible over the sound of the fire, and his stomach twisted, imagining the fear that must have been running through his unintentional victim's mind.

"Fuck it," he muttered before turning up the collar of his jacket. It wasn't like he had a lot to live for anyway.

* * *

"Someone help me!" she cried, coughing around the smoke that washed over her skin and burned at her eyes. Her voice cracked, sounding so unlike herself that she didn't even recognize it. Despite the sweater she'd rolled up against the door, deadly fumes slipped between the cracks, bringing aerosol toxins that stained her skin, her hair, the inside of her lungs.

The phone lines on her floor were down. The alarms hadn't gone off, and, as far as she could tell, the sprinklers hadn't either. She'd foolishly left her cell phone in the exam area. Her best hope was to try to call attention to herself. Surely someone would hear her.

She huddled down close to the floor, trying to avoid the smoke. Heat emanated from the door, her last form of protection, pressing in on the bare skin of her arms. Sweat slipped down her soot-stained face, mixing with the tears that ran from her irritated eyes. How had this even happened? One minute she was staying late at work and the next she was facing down a fire. Who would do this?

Another coughing fit took over and she tucked her nose and mouth deeper into the collar of her tank top, trying in vain to find some relief. Even without the smoke particles, there wasn't enough air. A weight pressed against her chest as surely as the smoke burned her nose and throat. She couldn't stay there much longer. Was it worth it to try to find out what was on the other side of the door? Or would that just kill her faster?

The heat was oppressive, and she could barely see a few inches in front of her around the smoke. She weakly reached out for the door, and her fingertips burned on the wood. She let out a near-silent yelp, her throat was barely capable of bringing in air, much less making noise. Alexis curled in on herself, tears drawing long lines down her face, ragged sobs turning into hacking gasps. The world tilted to the side, and she slipped into dreams of smoke and flame.

* * *

Where the fuck was she? Smoke burned his eyes as he hurried through the basement, searching for the woman whose screams he'd heard. Fire was everywhere. He was having a hard time avoiding it. Some parts of the basement were already too far gone. If that person was in there, well, they were in a better place now.

The only place left to search was the morgue itself, the part that was catching fire faster than he'd anticipated.

All the doors were open except one. A charred office door with a half-melted metal nameplate. He squinted to read it, his irritated eyes falling short against the heat and smoke. He really hoped it wasn't anyone he knew. He rushed through the exam area, using his jacket as meager protection against the flames and smoke. A dull pain thudded in the back of his head. He didn't have much time. Hopefully she was alive. Hopefully she'd able to help him help her. There wasn't enough oxygen for him to do it alone.

"Hello!" Kevin called at the door, receiving no response. He backed up a couple steps, then kicked in the door. Smoke wrapped around him and the fire grew as a new pocket of air opened up. He was barely able to make out a form curled up on the floor. He kneeled down and shook her hard. "Get up!" he barked, hoping his sharp tone would snap the woman out of it. She coughed feebly in response. Shit.

Cinders flew through the air, landing on her exposed arms, and she flinched, emitting a pathetic wheeze-whimper. He slipped his jacket off, trying in vain to ignore the heat that pressed against his arms and torso, and wrapped it around her. He lifted her into his arms, choking at the smoke that smothered his lungs as he supported her weight. Her face pressed against his chest, her body completely limp, and his arms tightened around her. She wouldn't last long without some clean air.

As he left the small office, the door frame collapsed, bringing its scorching weight down on his shoulders. He shielded the woman with his body, crying out at the heat that spread down his back, pulling in lungfuls of smoke with reach ragged breath. He staggered through the morgue, feeling like his chest was on fire. Each inhale was painful, and each exhale left him wanting more. Spots appeared in his vision as he pushed open the door to the stairwell, letting it fall shut behind him, and he collapsed against the cool steps, dropping the woman's body on the floor.

He gulped in lungfuls of cleaner air, his hands shaking at the white-hot pain that hugged his back and shoulders. His eyes blinked away smoke particles as they settled on the unmoving form a few feet away. Her back was to him, still wrapped in his jacket, long, soot-stained strands of hair lay across the floor.

Was she even breathing? Where were the paramedic and fire teams? His partner should have called them by now. He gingerly moved forward, gritting his teeth at the pain, and flipped her onto her back. Her face was stained black in several places, but the resemblance was unmistakable. Kevin jolted backward, his oxygen-deprived mind unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

It was her.

Alexis let out a hacking cough, her bloodshot blue eyes wild. He shook his head. It wasn't possible. She was dead. He'd seen her die—held her as she took her last breath. Her body jerked as her lungs tried to expel the toxins, her chest arching upward then falling against the cold linoleum. His eyes locked on the soot-smudged mark that started a few inches above the neckline of her tank top.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs, and Kevin forced himself to stand. As the firefighters and paramedics moved into, checking for injuries and offering first aid, he forced himself to disengage, to the play the part of a scared hospital employee, accepting help and giving false information until he could sneak away.

He didn't allow himself to look back at her. He knew what had happened. Smoke and pain and three years of longing had superimposed her image over some other woman's face.

It wasn't Alexis. It couldn't be.

* * *

The heart monitor was her least favorite sound to wake up to. She'd spent way too long listening to it. Was way too familiar with it. Of course, she had another least favorite sound, and naturally that one would be in her hospital room too.

"Alexis?"

"Dad?" Her vocal cords barely managed to squeak out the word. She coughed hard, her lungs heaving down into her belly and then jumping up and banging against her throat. Her father's hand gently squeezed hers as she fought for air. Cool, sweet oxygen flowed in through the tubes in her nose.

He handed her a cup of water once the coughing had abated. "I got a call from the hospital… they said you were in a fire in the morgue?"

She simply nodded as the liquid soothed her irritated throat. Speaking was too difficult, breathing alone was a challenge.

"You're supposed to be in LA."

Alexis stared down at the starched, white hospital blankets. What kind of answer was she supposed to give him? She glanced up at him and saw the exact moment all the pieces clicked together in her father's mind. His expression shifted from hurt to confused, finally going blank. "You didn't."

She took another sip of water, keeping her face as emotionless as his, trying to appear strong even though each breath hurt worse than the one before it.

"Why did you lie to me?"

She couldn't explain it. And not just because she couldn't speak. Alexis wasn't strong enough to share those deep, dark fears that had followed her ever since her dad had sent her away. Those voices that said the plane ticket had nothing to do with her wellbeing; he just wanted to live a perfect life with his new wife and daughter—broken leftovers weren't welcome.

Alexis knew she was broken. She could handle that. She'd gotten very comfortable with that idea, the truth that had been cruelly etched into her skin. But there were other ideas that she wasn't as comfortable with: the possibility that Kevin was dead—or, somehow worse, that he was alive and didn't care about her anymore—and the near-certainty that her own father hadn't wanted her. Because who would want someone like her? Broken. Damaged beyond repair. Those were things she wasn't strong enough to face. So she lied and avoided and she worked herself to exhaustion, first in LA, where she finished medical school a semester early at the top of her class, and now in New York.

Except she'd been caught, and she couldn't run or avoid or lie anymore. Her father stood in front of her, his frown deepening by the second, expecting an answer that she couldn't give. Tears slipped down her face and she bit her lip, locking in the sob that tugged at her chest. She wrapped her arms around herself, hiding her face as coughs mixed with voiceless whimpers. She didn't want him to see her like this, so weak and pathetic. It was just like two and a half years ago. If she was strong, maybe he wouldn't send her away again. If she could just stop crying–

"Oh, honey."

In an instant, he sat by her side and his arms wrapped around her. Whenever she envisioned seeing him again, speaking to him in person, she'd imagined an angry speech, with just enough calculated venom to really hurt him. To hurt him the same way he'd hurt her. But in that moment, with her face pressed against his chest as he told her loved her, that he'd missed her, that he was so happy she was okay, Alexis wasn't angry. She just missed her dad.

Her arms slipped around his middle and Alexis relaxed against his chest, staying there long after the tears had abated.

* * *

"Help me understand—you did the job."

"Yes." He sounded like he'd swallowed a pound of gravel.

"Everything was destroyed."

"Yes."

"And once you accomplished that job, you risked the entire operation by sticking around to pull some woman out of the fire?" The old man wheezed on the last syllable, and Kevin almost laughed. He was being reprimanded for saving a life, and Nolan could barely pull in enough air to finish his sentence. If his own lungs didn't feel like they'd been through a meat grinder, he would have relished in the old man's frailty a bit more.

"She was unconscious. Nobody saw me."

"That's not the point," Sloane said, speaking up from his place at the other corner of the room. "You put the operation at risk over some nobody."

"I don't remember asking your opinion," Kevin snarled. "Why are you even here?"

"The boss asked me to come." His grin made Kevin furious, and it was no secret why. It had taken more than a little self-control for Kevin to not kill him over the last three years. It had been a constant fantasy to wraps his hands around Sloane's thick neck until his eyes bugged out.

"It was your job to make sure the floor was clear," Kevin said. "You fucked up."

Nolan waved his hand dismissively, "There are always casualties in a war. What I don't understand is why you are so quick to make yourself one of them."

Kevin gritted his teeth, but didn't say anything.

"I would say you should be punished, but it looks like your foolhardy decision has already punished you enough. You may leave."

Again, he didn't say anything. Kevin stood up, biting back a wince as his shirt dragging over his blistered skin.

 _"Buachaill."_

"What?"

"Don't give me a reason to doubt you."

Kevin walked out of the quasi-hospital room, forcing one foot in front of the other until he stumbled down the steps of the brownstone and carefully, gingerly, sat in the passenger seat of the car that waited for him on the curb.

"I see you're still alive," Brigid said from her spot in the driver's seat.

"For now."

"Here," she tossed him a small black pouch with tubes hanging out of it. "Breathe deep."

Kevin hunched over, pressing the oxygen mask against his face as his sister drove him home.

"You shouldn't have waited this long to get medical attention."

He didn't say anything, just savored the oxygen that flowed through his burned throat.

"Sit back," she said, reaching toward him with one arm, and he flinched away from her touch.

"Can't," he said, briefly pulling the mask away.

"You didn't wear any protective clothing when you decided to be a volunteer fireman?"

He paused briefly, irritated by everyone scolding him for doing a good thing. He knew Brigid's frustration came from a place of love, but he was still tired of hearing it. "Someone else needed it more." In the hours since he'd staggered out of the hospital, the satisfaction of a successful assignment ringing hollow, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her, the object of his most recent hallucination.

He found himself mentally walking back through those moments in the fire. Had she still looked like Alexis when he'd found her in the office? Her face had been hidden from him, by smoke or some other means, until he'd turned her over in the stairwell. He tried to remember how Alexis' weight had felt in his arms all those years ago. Not just when she was dying, but during moments of passion or that time, right after she'd moved in with him, when he'd picked her up and spun her around, so happy to be sharing his home with her. The woman he'd endangered and then saved was about the same size.

"What's on your mind, _deartháir?"_

He'd been silent through the drive him, wordless as they rode the elevator up to his apartment and his sister rummaged through the first aid kit. He tried to shake the hope that had settled, cold, in the bottom of his hollowed-out chest. Alexis was gone. He tried to ignore the voice that reminded him that she'd be finished with medical school, working as a medical examiner in a morgue. She would have been a medical examiner if she wasn't dead. She would have been a lot of things.

He couldn't shake the image of the scar. In all of his half-crazed imaginings, Alexis didn't have a scar. Every part of her was perfect—just as she'd been before Sloane had plunged the knife into her chest. The woman he saw today looked like a different Alexis, an Alexis that existed after the event that had torn their lives apart. Was his mind really capable of making that up? Or was there another explanation? A logical answer that made his heart beat in double-time.

"Brid," he began.

A crease appeared between her eyebrows as she watched him. "What's the matter?"

But what if he was wrong? He'd watched her die. He'd seen her blood-covered corpse. And then he'd seen her in the morgue, alive, though worse for wear, with a terrible scar running down her chest. How could they both be real? How could she have survived? And how would he have not known about it? Brigid would have told him. She was the one loophole to Nolan's demand that Kevin leave his old life behind, and she was the one who made sure that the old man kept up his end of the deal. If Alexis was alive, his sister would have told him.

He knew his sister worried about him. Though Brigid's job was to look after Nolan's health, she spent most of her time chasing after Kevin, pulling him out of the bottle when he'd sank too deep, patching up cuts and bruises from jobs that had gone wrong, simply sitting with him in silence when it had hurt too much to be alone. In the first six or seven months after Alexis' death, when he'd spent more time shit-faced than sober, his sister was the one who had cleaned him up and kept him alive. She was the only person left in the world who cared about him; she was the only person he could trust.

Kevin shook his head. "Never mind."

Whatever had happened, whatever he thought he'd seen when pain and smoke had crossed the wires in his brain, it wasn't worth sharing. Brigid knew he was broken—haunted by the life he'd left behind. There was no point in telling her how bad it really was.

* * *

Author's Note: Come on, Kev! Don't give up so easily!

A million thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one just as much! Please, please, please review. I would love to hear your thoughts.

I've got a little promotion going on right now for those readers who have reviewed, followed, or favorited _In My Veins_ and _Heart of Stone_. **You are eligible to read a special, "deleted" scene** that takes place between the two stories. If you have an account, PM me and I'll share it with you. If you're a guest reviewer, leave your email in a review and I'll share it with you that way. Or you can create an account for the sake of getting exclusive goodness. (I don't think there's another way for me to do this. This website won't let me post my email here. I'm open to all other suggestions.) This is an exclusive scene that is not published anywhere, so take advantage of the reading opportunity.

One last item of business: **Rylexis fans there is an amazing new story up!** The wonderful and talented JJS4 has just published the first chapter of a Rylexis story called _Aftermath_. I got the opportunity to help edit the story, and can I just say it's the perfect mix of drama, romance, and general sexiness? Do yourselves a favor and check it out. :)

Next time: Alexis runs into an old "friend."

Have a great weekend!

\- A.K. Hunter


	3. Chapter Three

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Three

"You were cold as the blood through your bones and the light which led us from our chosen homes . . . I was lost." - Mumford and Sons, "Below My Feet"

* * *

She was gone.

In the days since Kevin had seen Alexis in the fire, everything had changed. He'd had more spare time than he was used to while he waited for his burns to heal, and that time had been spent fixated on what he thought he saw. He'd been trying to forget the hallucination and move on with his life.

Except, he couldn't go back to the way things were. His mind wouldn't let him. He'd tried twice now to find that connection with her, half experimenting and half because he missed her and he needed to reassure himself that he wasn't any crazier than he'd ever been. It wasn't working. He couldn't find her. She was gone and twice now Kevin had been left with the nameless women for the duration of their time together. It was some kind of torture, being stuck with them, unable to see the woman he really wanted.

He couldn't stop thinking about the scar, about the subtle differences in her appearance. Her face was thinner; her soot and sweat-stained tank top hugged curves that hadn't been quite so defined a few years earlier. What if his brain wasn't making things up? What if she'd been alive all this time, miraculously pulled from death, the savage wound sewed back together?

If she was alive somehow, that would change everything. It gave the last three years a terrible change in meaning. But it also gave him hope. If she was alive, well, she wasn't dead. And that was the most important part.

They were supposed to have a future. Kevin had thought they would eventually get married, start a family, and spend the rest of their lives solving crime together. And then, just as the fantasy was so close to becoming a reality, she'd been ripped away from him. If she had somehow survived, if there was a chance to find her again, to hold her in his arms and feel her heartbeat...

He couldn't _not_ try. He had to be brave enough to at least ask the question. Worst-case scenario, he was still alone in a world without her. Best-case scenario… he wouldn't allow himself to imagine that. It would hurt too much if he couldn't have it. Either way, he had to try. He carefully rolled off the bed, minding the bandages on his back, careful to not wake the woman sharing the bed with him. He quietly dressed, then left her apartment.

Once he reached the street, he pulled out his cell phone. "Connor—I need some information. There's money in it for you if you get me what I want. No, the boss doesn't need to know."

He hung up and pulled out a package of cigarettes. Truthfully, he'd lost some of his love for the habit after inhaling a gallon of smoke, but it was the only thing that kept him calm anymore. And Kevin had a feeling that he'd need something to keep him calm in the coming days.

* * *

She was going crazy.

At nearly noon on a Thursday, Alexis leaned against her kitchen counter, sipping coffee, still clad in her pajamas. She traced the pattern on her countertop, her mind miles away from the present.

In lieu of smoke inhalation and not actually having a place to work, Alexis had been given several days off. She'd enjoyed it during the first day, when she's come home from the hospital, showered, and then slept until the second day. Since then, it had more or less been hell. She had no idea what to do with herself when she wasn't working, and she could only hit the same dead ends on her own case so many times.

Truth be told, she was having a hard time without the constant distraction that her job offered. She'd had way too much time to think in the last few days, and it was wearing on her. The worst part was late at night, when she was running through the events of the fire in her head. She didn't remember most of it after she'd passed out. Just glimpses of fire, short bursts of sound, the occasional tactile memory.

Someone had saved her life. The paramedics had administered to her in the stairwell, and Alexis knew there was no way she'd managed to travel from her office to the stairs by herself. Her office had been totally destroyed by the fire, as had most of the morgue. No one was coming forward to admit to saving her life, and when she concentrated hard, the most she could remember was her face pressing against cotton that smelled like smoke and sweat and a distinctly male scent that was somehow familiar. She remembered a masculine yelp of pain breaking through her consciousness, and, in a half-crazed glimpse that made less and less sense every time she thought about it, she thought she saw a shocked pair of blue eyes. Blue eyes that she would recognize anywhere.

But of course that was impossible. That last part had to be the oxygen deprivation wreaking havoc on her brain. She'd been working on Kevin's case before the fire had started; her brain had flashed those images in front of her eyes. It was like those years in med school when she stayed up late studying and then dreamed of physiology. It wasn't real, much as she wished it could be.

A knock at her door pulled her from her increasingly depressing thoughts. She pulled the door open, and a small smile tugged at her mouth. "Hey, dad." After their reunion in the hospital, Alexis was trying to make an effort with him. When he'd offered to help her finish moving into her apartment, she couldn't think of a good reason to refuse.

Castle stood on the threshold to her apartment, holding some bags in his arms. He looked a little nervous. "Hey."

"Um, come on in."

"I brought you some groceries. I wasn't really sure what you needed." He set the bags on the kitchen counter.

"Oh. Thanks." Alexis quickly put the groceries away, trying to block her father's view of the fridge, which currently only housed a case of water and a couple bottles of wine. Her cupboards weren't much better.

"So this is your new place, huh?"

She looked around the apartment, trying to imagine it from her father's perspective. It was small, but the open floor plan and large windows made it feel much bigger than it was. She didn't need much space anyway. She winced at the boxes spread across the floor and the distinct lack of furniture. "It's a work in progress, obviously."

"So, where should we start?" he asked.

They spent the next couple hours methodically unpacking her entire life. To his credit, her father only made one comment about the utilitarian way she'd been living and gently reminded her that coffee wasn't food and she should eat more. Alexis pasted on a smile and asked about the investigation.

"Kate's at wits' ends with the whole thing," he said, "She's been pulling all-nighters to try and track these bastards down. She became captain for the predictable hours and instead she hasn't seen Johanna in four days."

The night the morgue had been set on fire, someone had hacked into the precinct's electronic records. Everything had been deleted. All the precinct had left to work with was the paper files, and it would take months to duplicate them and repopulate them into new, more secure electronic records. All of the open cases now took triple the time to work through, and some investigations had completely stopped. Whoever had planned and executed the job wanted a clean slate, and they'd just about gotten it.

"I wish there was more I could do to help," she said. She'd been questioned several times about the fire, and each time her account was the same. She'd been trapped in her office and had woken up in the stairwell with paramedics hovering over her. Besides identifying her rescuer as male, Alexis hadn't been able to offer anything in the way of useful information.

Castle squeezed her hand. "I'm just glad things didn't end differently."

"Me too."

Silence set in as they unpacked her kitchen together, and Alexis was glad that her father had come by. It was nice to see him and talk with him. It almost felt like old times.

"So, hey, I've got a serious question," he said suddenly.

"I've got a serious answer."

He smiled, but it looked sad. "You graduated early, the top of your class, with tons of real-world experience. You had your pick of internship programs. You could have even gone out of the country."

Alexis stared into the box of never-used kitchen utensils. She didn't like where he was going with this. "And?"

"And you chose to come back to New York."

"It's a great program," she said.

His eyes landed on hers, and she forced herself to maintain eye contact. Looking away would clue him in, looking away was as good as giving up and telling him the truth. Alexis was surprised that she couldn't find any judgment in his eyes, just concern.

"That's true," he admitted. "But there are better programs out there. And they would have taken you."

She shook her head. "What are you saying?"

"I know you were hurt when I sent you to live with your mom–"

"Dad, we don't have to talk about this."

"And I understand why you didn't visit and why you didn't call very much."

"Dad–"

"You needed time to heal in a place that didn't constantly remind you of everything terrible that happened. I get it. And now you're back at the first possible opportunity, and I think I know why. Now, I know it's not the job; you can do that anywhere. That leaves one reason: him."

She felt sick. Was she really so transparent? "You've got it wrong."

"Do I? Because all the evidence is telling me that you're here for Ryan."

Alexis barely restrained herself from flinching at hearing his name. "It's not just about... him. They hurt me too. They ruined me."

"Honey, you're not ruined–"

"And they were never caught. I can't just sit by and accept that."

He sighed. "So you're here to track them down? To get some kind of justice? This isn't about Ryan at all?"

"If I can find him—find out what happened to him, that's great. But it's not really about him. It's about me. It's about getting justice for what they did to me." This lie was different. It was slippery. She both believed it and knew in her heart it wasn't true. Not entirely.

"Alexis, it's been three years and there is no sign of him. Have you considered the possibility that he's-"

"Dead? Yes, I've considered that possibility. I still need to know."

He shook his head. "That wasn't what I was going to say. I was going to say, he's been gone for a long time. What if he doesn't want to be found?"

Alexis frowned. That darker, more subtle possibility had haunted her even more than Kevin' potential death. She didn't have an answer for it. Not truly. Because even considering that possibility made her physically ill, made her feel beyond betrayed. Beyond violated.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "If he— if Kevin doesn't want to be found, well, that's just too damn bad. It's not up to him anymore. He's part of the puzzle."

Castle nodded sadly. "You know, I just got my PI license."

"I thought you weren't really solving cases anymore."

He shrugged. "Johanna's in preschool now. I could use a part-time gig."

"Well," she said. "That's great. I'm happy for you."

"I'm looking for clients, and I would love for my first official case to be yours, if you'll let me."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I love you," he said with a small smile. "And I want you to be happy."

"I am happ-"

"Don't try to lie. You've never been very good at it. I just want you to be happy," he repeated. "And I know you won't be happy until you find what you've been looking for. So, think about it. You might actually get some sleep at night with someone else helping."

She took a deep breath. He watched her so earnestly. When Alexis had come back to New York, she'd assumed that she'd be searching alone. But maybe that didn't have to be the case. "Okay. That would be great. Thank you."

His phone pinged, and he checked his text message. "Ah. Time to pick your sister up from school."

"I can't believe how big she's gotten," Alexis said. Guilt churned in her stomach for more or less missing out on her sister's life.

"You should come by for dinner sometime. You two can catch up. She's already working on her first novel."

"Oh? What's it about?"

"My Little Pony, mostly."

Alexis followed her father to the door, feeling like a weight had been lifted.

"Oh, I forgot to give you this." He passed something over, and Alexis' eyes widened when she saw what it was:a gleaming Celtic knot on a fine chain.

"Oh my god. I thought I'd lost it."

"You left it here when you… when I sent you to LA."

"Thanks Dad."

He hugged her. "You know, it's okay to want to find him. Not knowing—it's been difficult for everyone."

"I miss him so much, Dad." She laughed bitterly, "And being back here—I thought it would help, but sometimes it feels like it makes things harder. For half a second I thought he was the one who pulled me out of the fire. Stupid, right?"

Once again, there was no judgment in her father's eyes. "The Ryan I knew would have walked through fire for you. It's not stupid at all." He kissed her forehead. "I love you. Thanks for letting me come over."

She gave him a watery smile. "Thanks for helping me unpack."

He rolled his eyes. "If that's what you call it. We're going furniture shopping. And grocery shopping. You're not in med school anymore. It's time to start living and eating like a real human being."

Alexis laughed, and for the first time in three years she felt like things might be okay after all.

* * *

There was no Castle on the list.

He tried to temper the disappointment that threatened to smother his chest as he continued to flip through the personnel files Connor had brought him. Kevin couldn't be sure why he still looked when it was obvious that she wasn't there. Perhaps he wasn't quite ready to give up hope. Maybe she'd gotten married? The thought sent a wave of sickness through him. Still, it was better for her to be alive and with someone else than dead and alone.

He opened up another file, revealing the face of Lanie Parrish. He exhaled raggedly as his eyes, against his will, read through her file. Still unmarried. One child. Kevin couldn't help but wonder what had happened. Three years ago she and Javi were engaged. He shut the file. No—he couldn't go down that road right now. Maybe not ever. He'd given it up. He set her file aside, then kept moving. He recognized several of the faces and names staring back at him, but there were even more that he didn't know. Life goes on, the world keeps spinning, even when you're no longer apart of it.

He took a long pull from the bottle of Scotch at his side, relishing in the burn as it slid down his throat. He was grasping at straws. He'd been foolish to even think that what he'd seen was real. What a fucking idiot.

He sighed and rested his head in his hands, his fingers sliding through his hair. His elbow bumped the remaining files off of the table, sending a mess of pages and photos sliding across the floor.

He had to prepare himself for the possibility that he'd seen things. That he was actually as crazy as he felt. The real, worst-case scenario was that he was as alone in the world as he'd ever been. She was gone. He was alone. That was the truth.

He reached down to collect the files. He'd finish glancing through them, but he knew in his heart that he wouldn't find what he was looking for. There was simply nothing to find. His eyes read the file label on the top of the stack. A. Harper. His heart picked up its pace. Harper was Alexis' middle name, an homage to her sad excuse for a mother.

Hands shaking, Kevin picked up the file. He opened it up, and a picture slid out. He only just caught it before it fell to the floor.

It was her. Not the Alexis he remembered, but the one he'd seen in the fire. Long red hair, more defined cheekbones, a small smile that didn't quite reach her blue eyes. His eyes scanned the file, coming back once again to the possibility he'd only just let himself hope for.

"Alexis," he whispered.

She was alive.

* * *

Alexis liked to think that she was strong, that she'd learned how to cope with loss and trauma. She was an expert on carrying the weight of a stolen future across her chest. Most of the time, Alexis carried that weight with little issue. She forced herself out of bed, she pasted on a smile, and she went to work. It was how she'd gotten through med school; it was how she'd approached each and every day back in New York.

Sometimes, though, it just hurt. And there was no way around it. Alexis was in the middle of one of those times. God, she missed him so much. She poured herself another glass of wine, wiping tears away with the back of her hand.

She wasn't as lonely anymore. Her dad called her all the time; he stopped by almost every day, usually with Johanna. Kate had called from the precinct to check in on her. Lanie had brought Aaron over and she and Alexis caught up over coffee. Even Liam had stopped by to make sure she was okay. And she really was. She was okay. She had the support of friends and family who loved her, who didn't revile her for the shitty way she'd treated them. It helped having them around. It helped to not be confined to her apartment with only her thoughts for hours on end. But it didn't change the fact that she didn't have him. That he was gone.

It had started when she'd forced herself to go through their box of possessions. It was the last unopened box in her apartment, and for some reason she had thought she was strong enough to face it on her own. She'd flipped through three years of letters to a man who had disappeared, left her for dead. It was a chronicle of her grieving.

Anger at him for leaving: _How could you do this to me? To us?_

Attempts to bargain: _Please come back. I'd do anything to see you one more time._

Denial of the truth that was staring her in the face: _I know you're out there. I know you're alive. I know you still love me._

Pages and pages of anguish: _I love you. I miss you. Please come back. Please don't leave me alone anymore._

She'd never really gotten to the acceptance part.

After reading the letters, she'd found their pictures. There weren't many, but each held a cherished memory—the weekend they'd spent in the Hamptons, Thanksgiving, Christmas, the day she'd moved in with him. They looked so happy, like nothing could ever hurt or trouble them.

She ran her fingertips over the necklace. If she looked closely enough, she could still see tiny flecks of blood that had stained into the grooves of the metal. She'd been wearing it that night in the warehouse. Alexis hadn't put it back on, instead she traced the never-ending knot. It was supposed to symbolize something special for them. They'd worked so hard, overcome so much to be together. Surely after all that, forever would be within reach.

Alexis searched through the box, and her fingers brushed over smooth leather. With shaking hands, she pulled out a tiny, square box. She knew what it meant. She knew that the contents of the box symbolized the future they would never have. That was why she'd never had the heart to open it.

She took a deep breath, wiped away more tears, and pushed upward on the lid. A knock at the door stopped her progress. She wiped her eyes. If her dad was stopping by to visit, she didn't want him to see her so upset. She padded across the apartment, unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Alexis forgot how to breathe.

Kevin Ryan was on her doorstep, his blue eyes staring at her in devastated shock.

He was there—right in front of her. So close she could touch him.

Her mouth wordlessly formed his name.

With one step, he closed the space between them. His hands moved to her face, and she gasped as his lips crashed into hers.

* * *

Author's Note: I'm just going to leave it there for now. :)

A million thanks to all of those who have supported this story. You guys are so phenomenally amazing. Special shout out to Lori2279 and Danayvette for the gentle reminders to update, and of course many thanks to JJS4, who is always there when I'm sending out the Rylexis bat signal.

Be sure to check out my profile for information on how to get the deleted scene (guest reviewers, that means you!).

Please, please, please review!

Next time: A long-awaited reunion.


	4. Chapter Four

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Four

"I know that it's weak, but God help me—I need this." - Matchbox Twenty, "Bed of Lies"

* * *

Three years.

It had been three years since Kevin last saw Alexis, since he'd last held her in his arms, since he'd last felt the warmth of her skin or stared into her gorgeous blue eyes. He'd grown used to a world without her; he'd almost come to accept a lifetime of carrying the weight of her death. It wasn't comfortable, on any given day it was only just bearable, but it wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter. No matter how much he wished that things had been different, he couldn't change the way his life had fallen apart. All he could do was salvage what little he had left.

Except, he'd been wrong from the beginning. Alexis had never truly left the world, just _his_ world. She'd been alive—blood pumping, lungs drawing breath—the entire time. With an address from her stolen personnel file, Kevin had gone to her apartment in search of answers. Where had she been? How had she survived? He couldn't articulate the joy and grief and helpless anger that simmered inside him. Was there an appropriate response to that kind of revelation?

And then the door had opened and the world shifted beneath his feet. It was different now, seeing her again. The fire had protected his identity, had given him enough reason to doubt what his own eyes had seen. Standing in front of her, seeing the shock on her tear-stained face, Kevin knew there was no going back—not to the life they'd shared three years earlier and not to the dark, soul-shattering ways he'd been spending his time since then. And that was okay. Because as long as he could taste her lips again, as long as he could feel her warm body against his, nothing else mattered.

His hands moved to her face, and she gasped as his lips crashed into hers. Her fingers wrapped around the collar of his shirt and she sank into the kiss. He walked her backward, pushing the door closed behind him. His hands slid into her hair, just as soft as he remembered it. His tongue traced her lips, begging for entrance. Then, just as quickly as it had began, Alexis pulled back, wrenching herself away from his grasp.

The slap echoed through the apartment. Kevin's head turned to the side, his cheekbone reddening. Alexis stood in front of him, chest heaving with emotion, her eyes betraying confusion and heartache.

"K-Kevin?" Her voice cracked and her eyes filled with fresh tears.

He stared at her for a moment, watching the tears roll down her cheeks. He had no comfort to offer her. His mind still couldn't understand how she could be alive, much less try to make amends for her well-deserved anger. A sob escaped her throat, like she, too, couldn't believe he was standing in front of her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Kevin stepped close again, risking her anger, and gently pried her hand away from her lips. He pressed a soft kiss against her palm, tasting the tears that had fallen there.

Then Alexis reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. She bit his lip, hard, deepening the kiss when he gasped against her mouth. Her hands glided down his chest, and she yanked on his belt, pulling his body flush against hers.

They were almost desperate in their need, teeth gnashing, hands searching for bare skin. She tore his shirt open, buttons flying, her fingertips gliding over his chest, fingernails dragging down his back. He moaned against her mouth and his fingers twined in her hair, roughly tugging her head back. She whimpered as his lips followed the curve of her neck, stopping at her pulse. He brushed a kiss against the beating vessel, savoring the racing pulse beneath his lips and then nipped at her throat. His name on her lips was the most life-affirming thing he'd ever heard.

She pushed his shirt over his shoulders and he saw her pause at the unfamiliar color on his chest. A black Celtic knot stood out in sharp contrast against his skin, right above his heart.

Her eyes locked with his as realization dawned. She pressed her lips against the mark, trailing her mouth up to his throat. She nipped playfully at his neck, then bit him hard enough to leave a mark. His hands squeezed at her waist briefly before picking her up and stumbling down the hallway. Alexis approved of the action as she sank her fingers into his hair, hooked her legs around his waist and kissed him with a ferocity he didn't know was possible. God, he'd missed this. No one had ever made him feel as alive as her.

"Where's your—"

"Door on the right," she answered, barely pulling away from mouth long enough to answer.

He kicked the door open and pressed her against the mattress. Shoes were kicked off in a hurry, and he pulled her sweater over her head, revealing more of that delicious, pale skin he never got tired of tasting.

She pushed him onto his back, then climbed on top of him to remove his belt and unbutton his pants. Air escaped through clenched teeth when her fingertips brushed against him, and he caught her wrists in his hands. Despite three years of longing, he wasn't ready to fuck her. He wanted to savor her a little bit longer. He wanted to revel in the fact that she was alive, that he could feel her heartbeat beneath his fingertips, that he could taste her mouth, smell her perfume, and listen to her pleasured gasps as they moved together. He sat up and removed his pants, then rolled back onto her.

Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist and her hips ground against his. He groaned into her neck as each roll of her hips threatened to end their union before it could truly begin. His fingers made quick work of the buttons and zipper on her jeans, tugging them down her legs with her panties. His fingertips skimmed up her thighs and as her hips rolled upward once more he slid a finger inside her. She gasped and bucked her hips as his fingers teased her, giving her just a taste of what was to come. His teeth nipped at her pulse point, and she moaned against his mouth as she came undone beneath him.

The blush that spread down her neck and chest, combined with the blissed-out expression in her eyes, almost broke him in half. His mouth claimed hers, plundering as he pulled her up and lifted her camisole over her head. His lips trailed over her jaw and down her neck, and a gasp tore out of her throat as she clapped her hands over her sternum.

That gave him pause. She didn't have that relaxed, pleasured expression, nor could he see the desire burning in her eyes. She just looked frightened. His eyes dipped down to her chest, and comprehension dawned. His fingertips pressed against her cheekbones, and he kissed her gently, slowly, methodically, until he felt her panicked heartbeat slow. His fingers wrapped around her wrists as he gently pulled her hands away.

The scar started between her breasts, sloping down across the left side of her rib cage. The mark was jagged, thick, and pink—easily seen against the pallor of her skin. Acute grief washed over him, and he was momentarily breathless. Not because of the scar itself, but because of the pain she must have endured while it healed. He locked eyes with her, hoping his expression wasn't as devastated as he felt. Her lower lip trembled, but she forced herself to look at him. She kept her expression blank, empty, and he realized that the pain had continued long after the wound had healed, pain that he surely had played a part in. Yet she was still brave enough to expose herself, to trust him with the truth that had been cruelly etched into her skin.

"Alexis," he whispered. Years of loss and love and longing were wrapped up in those three syllables. He closed the distance between them, brushing a light kiss over her lips before moving downward. His mouth moved across her neck and stopped at her breastbone. He glanced up at her once, seeing anxiety in her eyes. His fingers entwined with hers as he pressed his lips against the scar, following its trail over her ribs. He took his time, listened to her gasps and shuddering breaths at the sensation of his warm mouth against the angry fissure.

She pushed him onto his back and sealed her mouth over his, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip, her fingers tugging at his hair to deepen the kiss. Something wet fell onto his cheek, and he realized she'd been crying. He brushed his thumbs gently over her cheeks, but she ignored the caress and rolled her hips over his. He groaned at the sensation, and she roughly yanked his boxers over his hips, tossing them onto the floor. Before he could process it, she climbed back onto his lap, rolling her hips against him once before impaling herself on his length. His fingers clenched the bed sheets and her mouth muffled any protest as she rocked against him, sending tendrils of pleasure through him.

His hands dug into her hips, guiding her into a rhythm as he pressed upward against her. Sweat broke out on their skin as they moved together, and Alexis' fingernails dug into his shoulders as she neared the edge. Kevin hands moved over her back, rolling them over and angling her hips with the confidence of someone who had brought her to climax countless times.

His hands moved through her hair as he thrust into her, and he felt her begin to tighten around him. Pleasure was building inside of him; he didn't have long either. He grabbed a handful of her hair, using it to tug her head back, and his other hand slid down her body and nestled under her thigh, lifting it around his waist. He devoured her mouth, thrusting deep into her once, twice, thrice, until she cried out against his mouth and her body clamped onto his. Pure sensation washed over him as he shattered against her skin, his hips moving against hers by pure instinct.

He caught himself before he collapsed onto her and lay next to her on the bed while he caught his breath. She seemed similarly disarmed by their passion, and Kevin tensed in surprise when she snuggled next to him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. He pressed a kiss against her forehead. Silence settled in, and as the hormone-fueled haze slipped away he was amazed, once more, that she was laying beside him, that her chest rose and fell against his. It was a miracle. She was a miracle. And he was the lucky bastard who got a second chance to be with her.

"Kevin."

She was watching him, hesitation clear on her face. A tiny crease had appeared between her eyebrows, and he knew she was gathering the courage to ask the one question that would break them.

"Not tonight," he said.

"Kevin—"

" _Please._ Not tonight."

Alexis watched the indecision play over his face, and for a brief moment he saw fear and regret flash across her eyes. Guilt forced his eyes shut. He couldn't look at her. He couldn't see those emotions on her face, knowing he was the one who had caused them.

Her lips pressed against his cheek. A gift—an offering of trust that he didn't deserve. He allowed himself to look at her again. A small, tentative smile pulled at her perfect mouth, and her fingertips pressed against his cheekbones as if she was trying to memorize his face. Uncertainty and hope minged in her eyes. "I can't believe you're here," she whispered.

That hope, more than anything else, forced his hand. She'd waited for three years. How could he ask her to wait for the truth even one more second? Kevin hadn't forgotten the way she'd looked when she'd slapped him, the mix of grief and defiant distrust in her expression when she'd shown him her scar. He knew in his heart that the fact that they were in bed together had more to do with her love for the man he used to be than her feelings for the man he was now. The discrepancy scared him, but it was nothing more than he deserved. Alexis, on the other hand, deserved the truth and so much more. He couldn't _not_ give it to her, even if she hated him for it in the end.

"Alexis–"

She kissed him hard, killing his confession, and her fingertips danced down his chest and across his abdomen, sending all his blood southward. She finally pulled away, watching him with rapidly dilating eyes. His body ached for her touch.

"Not tonight," she echoed.

She pressed her lips against his again, and this time his hands moved through her hair as he kissed her back, feeling more than a little relieved. As they began to move together once more, Kevin thanked every patron saint he could think of that they'd been given this night and that Alexis was willing to wait just a little bit longer.

* * *

For three years, Alexis hadn't slept well. She'd had nightmares. She'd woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, her heart racing. Sometimes, she just couldn't stay asleep. She'd doze for a while then toss and turn for hours. The only times she'd slept well in the last few years she'd been drunk, sick, or driven to exhaustion.

So when she'd woken up fully rested, satisfied, and at peace for the first time in three years, it was somewhat disorienting. Alexis sat up, pushing her hair out of her face and wiping the remnants of sleep from her eyes. Her bedside clock told her it was nearly ten—way past the time she usually woke up. Gentle clinking noises echoed from the kitchen through the open bedroom door, and the air smelled of bacon and coffee. She had a guest, a very considerate guest, and judging by the fact that she wasn't wearing any clothes—

The memories of the previous night slammed into her mind: the bottle of wine, the pictures and letters, the ring box, the knock at her door and everything that had happened afterward.

Kevin.

She gasped and scrambled off the bed, catching her feet in the twisted bed sheet and bringing herself and the bedding into a heap on her bedroom floor.

"Good morning."

Alexis looked up from her nest and her heart arrested at the sight of Kevin leaning against her door frame, sipping coffee from one of her mugs. Her favorite mug, in fact. The product had been washed out of his hair, but he was wearing last night's clothes. He looked mildly amused and a little concerned. Her mouth went dry. "Morning," she rasped.

"Are you alright?"

She sat up straight, trying to look dignified despite the fact that her bed sheet was wrapped around her like a glorified toga. She cleared her throat. "I'm fine." Those two words sent her tumbling back, and she saw a similar distance in Kevin's eyes.

He seemed to shake himself, then took a sip of coffee and asked, "Do you not eat food anymore?"

"Excuse me?"

"There's no food in your apartment. Just coffee and liquor."

Confusion set in. Was he trying to lecture her about her unhealthy habits? _That_ was what he was going to start with? He'd disappeared without a trace for three years, and their first proper conversation was about her eating habits? Alexis was speechless, unsure of whether she should laugh, cry, or scream at him. She settled for staring at him silently until heat rose in his face.

"Um, there's breakfast and coffee, if you want them."

She nodded absently. "I'll be there in a minute."

He took the hint and left her alone again. Soon she could hear him humming an old Irish folk song from the kitchen—the same one he'd always hummed in the mornings. The song was infused with countless mundane actions from the life they had before. She'd heard it when he cooked breakfast, when he showered, when he dressed in the morning.

Alexis pressed her fingertips against her sternum, half-expecting her fingers to meet unmarred flesh. Surely she'd woken up in some kind of Twilight Zone in which she and Kevin had never been apart. Or maybe she was having a coma dream. She must have fallen and hit her head in the fire. Maybe she was dead, and this was her version of Heaven.

She felt the raised, twisted flesh on her chest. She wasn't dreaming. She wasn't dead. She hadn't fallen into an alternate universe. Alexis untangled herself and dressed with shaking limbs, forcing herself to go through the motions. Brush her hair, brush her teeth, wash her face. It helped, a bit. Because the alternative to maintaining her calm morning routine fell somewhere between storming into her kitchen and doing physical harm to the man who was cooking her breakfast and storming into her kitchen and making love to him on the cold, tile floor. She honestly wasn't sure which option sounded better.

She watched from the bedroom doorway as Kevin set two plates on the kitchen island, filling them with bacon and omelettes. When her father had been hospitalized, she'd lived on Kevin's omelettes. They were the only thing that ever sounded good when her mind and heart were both so shattered. Did he know how impossibly hard this was? Is that why he'd bought ingredients to make her favorite comfort food? Thank God he hadn't made pancakes. The morning was bizarre enough without her dry-heaving at the scent of fried batter.

He was so much the same it physically hurt to look at him, but there was a hardness in his expression that she'd never seen before. There were lines on his face she didn't remember. His eyes were guarded, though in them she saw something akin to loss.

"You can come closer. I don't bite," he said. His attention seemed focused on pouring a fresh cup of coffee, but she'd been caught all the same.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked, echoing words from another time. A time that, with perfect hindsight, she now understood had set into motion every event that had brought them to that moment in her apartment.

Kevin's eyes took on that faraway look once more, and his head bowed as he took a deep breath. It wasn't any easier for him. She clearly wasn't the only one reeling from the last twelve hours.

Alexis forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until she was sitting at the kitchen island, the cheap faux-marble countertop the only thing separating them. She reached across the gap for the coffee. "Would you pass the sugar please?"

"Already added it."

"Two spoonfuls?"

"Just how you liked it."

Tender surprise and discomfort mixed in her chest. He remembered. She tried not to think about the past tense as she brought the mug to her lips. The perfect balance of coffee and sugar made her want to cry, and she stared into the opaque liquid as Kevin took his place beside her. Not as close as he used to sit, but closer than a stranger would. She supposed that was about right, seeing as how he was both a lover and a stranger.

Silence set in, and Alexis put down her mug. "I can't do this."

"Eat breakfast?"

"Where have you been?" she asked. "It's been _three years_. The last time I saw you—" She shuddered at the memory, and he moved closer but didn't touch her.

"You died," he finished for her. He watched her with unspeakable sadness, clearly struggling with some questions of his own. "I saw you. You were dead and cold. How did..?"

"Blood transfusions, sutures, and epinephrine," she shrugged. "Thanks to modern medicine, I'm as good as new. Well, minus the hideous scar." She couldn't entirely erase the bitterness that laced her tone. She might be alive, but that didn't mean she wasn't broken.

His finger tentatively laced through hers. "You're still the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

Again, Alexis was at a loss. He'd left her alone for years, only to show up on her doorstep, make love to her—and that was truly what it had felt like—and try to pick up right where they'd left off? She never should have let things wait overnight. She should have demanded answers before anything else happened. She'd just been missing him for so long, missing his touch, that once he was right in front of her, she'd given in to that weakness and slept with him. Even now, with the bereft, almost hungry way he was staring at her, she wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed with him and stay there until the world wasn't such a confusing place. She tugged her hand away. "What are you doing here Kevin?"

He kept his gaze locked on the floor as he spoke to her. "I didn't know."

"What?"

"That you survived. I didn't know until yesterday."

Shock and disbelief rooted her in her spot. "How could you not know?"

He seemed to struggle to answer that question. "I–"

"How could you not know?" Alexis repeated. "All it would take was one phone call. One visit. A text message. An email. Something. You've been missing for three years. Everyone has been mourning your absence, _I've_ been—" she cut herself off. She was quickly heading down the road to hysteria, ready to unlock all the boxes that held her grief, her anger, her feelings of complete abandonment. She had to keep a lid on them. She had to remain calm, if only to get through that conversation.

"I can't," he said softly.

"You can't what? You can't call? You can't tell me where you've been?"

"Alexis—"

"Don't!" She snapped. "You don't get to say my name. You don't get to just show up after three years with no answers and act like it doesn't matter. You left! You said you loved me, that you wanted a someday with me, and then you left!" Okay, maybe the lids were already off. There was no stopping the emotion that spilled out of her.

Silence settled in, and Alexis took in Kevin's devastated expression. He needed to explain himself. He needed to give her the one answer that would make everything right, but she knew that he couldn't. There was no answer that would make it okay that he'd left her for three years. She pushed back her chair and walked out of her kitchen. She sat on the edge of her bed, resting her face in her hands.

"I never stopped loving you." His voice broke through her thoughts as he stood in the doorway. "I missed you every day. I thought about you, about our future, every day."

They were the words she'd been wanting to hear for years, but they rang hollow. If he loved her so much, why hadn't he stayed? Why hadn't he bothered to check in even once over the last three years?

"Kevin," she whispered. "Where have you been?"

"If I tell you, you'll hate me."

"How do you know I don't already hate you?"

He took a deep breath. "You'll hate me even more."

"Just tell me. Please."

He stepped forward and sat next to her on the bed. He maintained a respectful distance, and she was torn between relief and a desire to cross the gap and wrap her arms around him.

"I–"

A knock shook her front door, and Alexis muttered expletives under her breath. Perfect timing, as always. "Don't go anywhere." She closed her bedroom door behind her and hurried to answer the door. Liam stood on the other side, holding two cups of designer coffee.

"Liam, hi."

"Good morning!" he chirped. "We got some new info on the arson case, so I thought I'd stop by and share."

"That's great," she said without emotion. Her mind raced and her heart beat overtime in her chest. She couldn't miss this opportunity to talk to Kevin. Nothing in the world could be as important as finding out where he'd been. "How about I meet you downstairs and we'll go for a walk? You can tell me all about it?"

"Sure, um, do you want this now?" He nodded his head toward the coffee in his hand.

"Hold onto it for me. I'll be down in a few minutes. I just need to grab my shoes."

As soon as her front door was closed, Alexis all but sprinted back to her bedroom. She yanked the door open, meeting an empty room.

"Kevin?" she whispered. Why was she whispering? They were the only two people in her apartment. "Kevin?"

A cold breeze blew in through her open window, and Alexis noticed the ladder on the fire escape had been pulled down. Anger hit her stomach like a freight train. "Son of a bitch."

Kevin was gone.

* * *

Author's Note: Full disclosure, I wrote their reunion scene in like six distinctly different ways (totally different kinds of scenes) before I finally decided on this approach. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoy finally having it finished.

A million thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed. I am blown away by the support this story has received. Please keep it coming! There are new promotional goodies on the way for those who participate, so please please please review!

Next time: Sloane gets a new assignment and unsettling revelations abound.


	5. Chapter Five

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Five

"I ain't the man that I used to be." - Peter Bradley Adams, "The Longer I Run"

* * *

Years of blood were stained into his calloused palms, years of pain—some he felt, some he inflicted. Sometimes he thought he'd never get the blood off of his hands. Kevin stood at the bathroom sink, attempting to wash away the night's events. He was back to work, back to the special little safe house Nolan kept for the soul purpose of torturing traitors—and Kevin had just spent the better part of two hours wrenching a confession out of some low-level street rat who had been caught talking to the Feds. The good news was the traitor hadn't had to feel all those smashed, ruined bones cutting through his skin for long. The clean shot between his eyes was an anticlimactic end to a long night.

Suddenly, Kevin stumbled to the toilet, gagging and dry heaving at the memory of what he'd done. Bile burned his throat, but nothing came up. He'd long ago learned to never eat before a job. Another plus side of an empty stomach was that it made it a hell of a lot easier to get shit-faced and forget everything. He rested his forehead against his arm, staring at the blood smears his hands had left on the basin.

It wasn't that he was squeamish. Blood and guts, bones and bullet holes, they didn't bother him. What he couldn't stomach was the connection between himself and his victims. There was a terrible intimacy in torturing someone, in the time spent killing them. And that was the rub, because while he had murdered the man, he wasn't a killer. He inflicted terrible pain on a regular basis, but every scream, every prayer for mercy, every drop of blood chipped away at what was left of his soul. Nausea churned in his stomach, and his heart raced. He needed to pull it together before one of his associates saw what a fucking mess he really was.

Taking a deep breath, Kevin closed his eyes, searching.

 _I'm with you till the wheels fall off._

Though tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, his heartbeat slowed. His hands stopped shaking. The irony wasn't lost on Kevin; he might get comfort from the memories of his former partner, of his former life, but that didn't mean that Javi wouldn't hate him if he knew the truth. They all would. But Kevin couldn't think about that, because that cold dose of reality would ruin the last good thing he had left: his memories.

He forced himself to his feet, returning to his task at the sink. Rust-colored water swirled down the drain, and he looked up at his reflection. Sallow skin, circles under his eyes, flecks of blood on his cheek. He wetted a paper towel and wiped his face. This was who he was now. This was his legacy: pain and death and so much blood.

It was a small comfort to know that his sins allowed the people he cared about to live their lives. That comfort was the only reason he hadn't put a bullet in his mouth years ago. Now he had a new comfort—a new fear. Alexis.

She was alive. She lived, breathed, and seemed generally okay. Kevin knew she wasn't the same woman he'd known before. He'd seen the haunted look in her eyes, he'd noticed the way her apartment barely looked lived in, the way she now slept on her stomach, presumably a habit she'd picked up to cover the scar. She bordered on too thin and crossed the line into overworked. He had held her in his arms that night, trying desperately to stay awake so he could watch her sleep just a little longer. For the first time in three years, he'd felt at peace, like the broken pieces of his life fit perfectly together in her hands alone. He wished he could have been with her sooner.

So much would have been different if he'd known she survived, and the last three years held a terrible new meaning in light of her continued existence. If he hadn't been so haunted by her death, so smothered with grief and guilt and anger and self-loathing, perhaps he could have found a solution to the terrible situation he was now in. Perhaps he wouldn't have needed to become a monster.

He couldn't tell her. That was why he'd left. He was a coward and he loved her and he couldn't tell her the truth about him. He couldn't see that hope in her eyes die. He couldn't see the disgust on her face when she understood who he'd become—that the man she'd fallen in love with had died three years earlier in that warehouse.

After running from her apartment like a dog with its tail between its legs, he'd stopped by an internet cafe and had broken Nolan's cardinal rule. Kevin had looked into Alexis' survival, and, by proxy, his own disappearance. It was all over the news in the months following the murder attempt. "Daughter of mystery writer stabbed." "Homicide detective missing, presumed dead." If Kevin had bothered to pull himself out of the bottle for even one day in the months immediately after Alexis' death, everything would have been different. He would have known.

Brigid had to have known. She couldn't not know. Even if she miraculously didn't see the headlines on every newscast and paper, it was her job to keep tabs on the contacts from his old life. She had to have known this whole time. Which meant she'd known and she hadn't told him. Kevin couldn't begin to describe the anger and pain that accompanied that thought. She was all he had, his sister, his best friend, his confidante, and she'd been lying to him for years. He didn't know how to process that.

And there was more. Because if Brigid knew, if it was common knowledge that Alexis had survived, then that meant Nolan knew too. That scared him more than anything else. Made him feel helpless, like the odds were against him. Even though he was a cowardly bastard, he still meant to keep Alexis safe. He wanted to make sure nothing bad or painful happened to her ever again. It was the least he could do. But how do you protect against a threat that has all the cards? How do you win a rigged game?

"Hey!" The bathroom door banged. "You coming out anytime soon? I gotta hit the head."

Sloane. The man never failed to cause Kevin grief, whether that was in the form of obnoxious interruptions or killing the woman Kevin loved. If Sloane wasn't more useful alive than dead, Kevin would have personally killed him long ago. And he wouldn't have felt an ounce of remorse.

Kevin took a deep breath, letting his mask fall in place. He yanked the door open. "Don't let me stop you."

"Hey," Sloane said. "You must have the magic touch. I thought he'd never give it up."

Kevin smirked. "What can I say? I'm good with my hands."

"You mean good with a wrench."

"That too."

"You're a sick bastard. Ya know that?"

"Oh, I know it." Kevin walked away and Sloane's phone rang. Nolan's voice rattled through the phone, and Sloane couldn't hide the smile at the wheezing, pathetic old man. The bag of bones had two feet in the grave. It was just a matter of time. And once he was gone, Sloane was the obvious successor. He only had to wait, to practice that patience he'd perfected over the years. And then he'd take his reward.

"I've got a job for you," Nolan rasped. " _B_ _uachaill_ doesn't need to know."

* * *

"Good morning, Dr. Harper." One of the unis said as he lifted the police tape for her to cross under it.

"Morning," she replied with a forced smile. Alexis was feeling anything but chipper that particular morning. Though it did help to be back at work. Her demanding schedule made it a hell of a lot easier to cope with the recent upheaval in her life.

She approached the body—a young man with horrifying wounds on his limbs. It looked like his bones had been methodically broken with some sort of instrument. Cause of death was the bullet wound between his eyes. Another torture case. God, she was tired of these.

"Morning sunshine!" Liam chirped as he approached the scene.

"Not for this guy." She found his wallet in his back pocket. "Thomas Smith. You know him?"

Liam shook his head. "Must be an initiate. A low-level criminal trying to get into the organization."

"Guess he didn't make the cut."

"Hey," Javi said as he and Castle reached the scene.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Alexis asked.

"Bored," Castle shrugged, but Alexis noticed the way he looked to the side and then, too quickly, asked, "What have you got?"

He was lying, and Alexis figured his presence had more to do with keeping an eye on her than anything else. "See for yourself."

"Jesus, another one?" Javi asked.

Alexis nodded, eyeing the bones that broke through the corpse's skin. The angle that they infiltrated the skin and the heavy bruising indicated a meticulous attention to detail. And judging by the smells wafting off of the victim's body, it had hurt enough to make him lose control of his bodily functions. Who the hell was capable of inflicting that much pain on another person?

"The good news is we have another chance to catch this psycho," Liam reminded them, referring to the ruined evidence in the hospital fire. "We have a fresh start."

As Javi and Liam started a new game plan for the investigation, Castle sidled over to her. You okay?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine, dad."

"You look tired. Are you sleeping okay?"

"I sleep fine," she lied. "You don't need to worry about me all the time. I'm fine. I'd tell you if I wasn't."

Castle laughed. "I know that's not true."

Alexis didn't answer. She wasn't sleeping well. She wasn't okay. It had been thirteen days since Kevin snuck out of her apartment, and she had no idea how to find him. If it wasn't for the cold omelettes that had been sitting on her kitchen counter, she would have thought she imagined the whole thing. It was awful. Like a missing piece of herself had been put back together and then broken again just as quickly.

She berated herself for being so stupid. How could she have waited for even one moment to get answers? How could she have given in and jumped into bed with a man she hardly knew anymore?

 _You'll hate me._

He believed what he'd said to her. The thought chilled her. What had he been doing that he was so afraid to tell her? What was worth her hatred? Of course, people who drop off the planet for three years rarely have a good, wholesome reason for doing so. Still, Alexis would rather know. Whatever horrifying truth he was hiding, it was better to know than to spend hours awake at night, wondering where he was and what he was doing.

"So what are you doing tonight, Red?" Liam asked suddenly.

"Why?"

"Just answer the question."

She sighed. "No plans."

"I've got this friend–"

"You're trying to set me up?" she groaned.

"Listen, he's a doctor too. He's really nice, pretty good looking if I do say so myself–"

"Then you can go on a date with him."

He grinned. "Lily would not be happy with that."

"Right. Your imaginary fiancée," Javi chimed in.

"She's real," Liam asserted. "Just because you've never met her–"

"You know, Alexis," Castle said. "I think you need to go on a date with this guy. You get out of your apartment for a night, Liam has a witness to his real-life fiancée. Sounds like a win-win."

They were ganging up on her. She looked to Javi, trying to find some sort of backup. He just held his hands up with an apologetic look.

"Come on, Alexis," Liam said with a small, reassuring smile. "When was your last date?"

The tension ratcheted up, and Alexis' eyes widened. She'd been with a few guys since her relationship with Kevin, but a date? No, thank you. That was asking too much, emotionally and mentally. And honestly, she hadn't met a single guy she actually wanted to date. Except Kevin, obviously. God, she was so pathetic.

Liam seemed to recognize his misstep. "Hey, if you're not ready, that's–"

"What time?" she asked quickly. "I'll be there."

He filled her in on the details, and after a few more notes on their case, Liam left. "See you tonight," he reminded her with a wink.

"Can't wait," she deadpanned.

Castle followed her as she loaded everything up in the car.

"Shouldn't you be following the case with Esposito and Liam?" Alexis asked, not looking at him.

"Figured you'd want to stay updated on your case," he said. "The private one."

Her eyes widened. In the wake of Kevin showing up, fucking her, and leaving, Alexis had completely forgotten that her dad had taken on her case. "Have you found anything?"

"I've mostly been going through Beckett's notes on the case. She's spearheaded the investigation over the last three years, and she's hit a lot of dead ends. I keep coming back to Ryan's sister."

"Brigid? What about her?"

"You said her last name was O'Rourke?"

"Yes."

"And you tracked her down using that name?"

"Yeah, why?"

"She doesn't exist."

Alexis shook her head. "That's impossible."

"I looked through the files myself. Brigid O'Rourke appeared on the grid about three months before you contacted her, and right around the time you met her, she disappeared from all records."

Alexis rubbed her face. "That's not her real name, is it?"

"Doesn't look like it."

"No wonder Kate hasn't found anything. None of the people involved are real."

"But we know Kevin was real," her dad reminded her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Alexis forced herself to smile. Honestly, after the last three years, after the last thirteen days, Alexis wasn't sure what was real anymore. Maybe Kevin wasn't real. Maybe their relationship had never been real. He said he loved her, that he never stopped loving her. But if he loved her, why did he leave? Why did he abandon her again and again?

Alexis hadn't told anyone about Kevin showing up at her place. She knew that she should, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Partially because she couldn't believe it had actually happened, and partially because, again, he had left without a trace. After rushing though coffee and details on the arson case with Liam, she'd scoured her apartment for any evidence. Fingerprints, a leftover sock, something. He hadn't left anything behind, and the best she could find was a partial fingerprint on her coffee mug. The heat had smeared it beyond recognition. And even if she did manage to find some sort of minor evidence, what would she even say? The long-lost homicide detective had showed up at her doorstep with no warning and after a long night of physical reconnection, he'd made her breakfast and then disappeared again? Nobody would believe her. And that quiet worry that everyone carried around her, the way they walked on eggshells and treated her like she was made of spun glass, would just get worse. Alexis couldn't deal with that.

"He's out there somewhere," Alexis said. "We'll find him." There was a good chance she'd throttle his neck once she found him again, but she knew now that at least there was something to find.

A small smile pulled at his lips. "I'm glad you feel that way, honey."

She looked down at the supplies she had just packed in the car.

"And I'm glad you're going on that date."

"Why?"

"Because it'll be good for you to be reminded how beautiful and charming and likable you are."

"I really need to get to work, dad."

"Okay. I love you." He kissed her cheek.

"I love you, too."

Work went by fast. Alexis spent most of that time scouring the victim for evidence left behind by the killer and trying to figure out what kind of weapon was used on him. The breaks looked like they were caused by torsion, and the small, toothed clamp marks on the victim's skin made her think the weapon was something very commonplace, like some kind of wrench. That wouldn't help them narrow down their suspects. Almost everyone she knew had a basic toolkit at home.

She glanced at the clock, dismayed to see that it was almost time to get ready for dinner Alexis was definitely not looking forward to her first date in almost four years. She still couldn't believe she'd agreed to it so quickly. She just couldn't stand the pity on Liam's eyes, or her dad's quiet worry. So what if she wasn't okay? So what if she spent most of her free evenings home alone? It was her choice.

She'd get through the date and try to be charming and go home. It was just an obstacle to get through—a few hours spent doing something she had no interest in. It was sad, really, that Kevin—a man who had left her not once, but twice—could have so much control over her decisions.

Because at the end of the day, even with the endless baggage and unanswered questions, she just wanted him to come home.

* * *

"So what's your specialty?"

"Medical examiner. You?"

"Family practice."

"Wow," Alexis said, imagining her date, Greg, taking care of runny noses and aging grandparents. "That's so..."

"Boring?" Greg supplied with a small smile.

"I was going to say 'wholesome.'"

His smile grew to a grin. "I bet my patients aren't as well-behaved as yours."

Alexis snorted. "Their conversational skills could use some work."

She was on her second drink with her blind date, and to her surprise, she was actually enjoying herself. Liam and Lily were running late, so she and Greg had some time to get to know each other. He seemed nice, and as a resident in the local Family Practice program, he knew what it was like to live and breathe medicine. His irreverent sense of humor complemented her dry observations about life in the morgue, and time passed quickly as they swapped stories and commented on their mutual friend.

"So this Lily person—you've met her before?"

Greg nodded. "Yeah. She's really nice, really pretty. Seems like quite the catch. Can't imagine what she's doing with Liam."

"You know, I dated him for a while."

Her date's dark eyebrows rose. "Really? I've got to know his secret. Nerdy, uptight guy like him getting all these gorgeous women." Before Alexis had time to process that, Greg's eyes caught on something behind her. "Oh, they're finally here."

Alexis turned around as the other couple approached them. "I'm so sorry we're late. Traffic was unbelievable," he exclaimed, then he stepped back to introduce his fiancee. "Lily, this is Greg and Alexis."

Alexis felt as if the floor had buckled underneath her as her eyes glued on Lily's face—a face with large blue eyes that she knew all too well.

"Brigid?"

"Lily," Liam corrected, but Alexis barely heard him.

The other woman's eyes widened. "What are you doing in New York?" Brigid gasped, then tensed as she realized her mistake.

Alexis froze. Brigid knew. Her reaction had nothing to do with being shocked that Alexis was alive; it was a question of geography. Brigid knew that Alexis survived, and she knew that Alexis had left New York. The implications of that made the redhead dizzy.

"Have you two met before?" Liam asked.

Brigid, or Lily, instantly regained her composure. "We haven't. Honey, I think I left something in the car. I'll be right back." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and started toward the entrance of the restaurant with small, quick steps.

Alexis pushed her chair back, there was no way in hell she was about to let Brigid get away again.

Greg stood up with her. "Alexis, what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine. Just need some air." She kept her composure until she reached the street. With one shaking foot in front of the other, Alexis rushed out onto the sidewalk, shock transforming into desperation. She hurried through the crowd, looking left and right for the blonde. After finding Kevin and losing him again, she couldn't let this chance pass her by. She just couldn't.

A familiar blonde head cut through the crowd ahead.

Alexis broke into a run. "Wait! Brigid!"

The blonde kept moving, ducking into an alley, and Alexis followed close behind, hurdling over a pile of garbage and tackling her to the cement. Brigid immediately tried to push the girl off of her, but Alexis held on tightly.

"Where is he?" Alexis demanded, "Where's Kevin? Why did he think I was dead?"

"I don't know a Kevin," Brigid tried.

"Don't play dumb with me."

"I don't know who you're talking about!" Brigid cried.

"Tell me!" Alexis screamed.

"Alexis, get off of her!" Liam intervened, physically pulling the redhead off of his fiancee. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Let go of me!" Alexis wrenched an arm away from him, and her fist connected with his jaw.

The next thing Alexis felt was her face pressed against the concrete as Liam pinned her down, threatening to arrest her, to call her father. The threats spun around her, but she barely heard them. Tears slipped down her face. Brigid was gone. Once again, Alexis had nothing.

* * *

After getting away from the crazed redhead and hailing a cab, Brigid had taken refuge at her apartment. Her real apartment. The one only Kevin knew about. Her hands shook as she slid the key in the lock, and her phone buzzed. Another call from Liam. She declined the call. How the hell was she supposed to explain things to him? Brigid flipped on the lights and stopped in her tracks when she saw her brother sitting on her couch, a tumbler and a half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of him.

"Hello, _deirfiúr._ "

"Kevin?"

He held out his glass without looking at her. "Needs more ice."

"What are you doing here?"

He looked up at her, and she saw ice-cold fury in those eyes. "We need to talk."

She had a sinking feeling that she knew what he wanted to talk about. Brigid had spent years moving silently, gathering information, juggling lies in an attempt to scrape a few, fleeting moments of happiness out of the black hole that she'd lived in her entire life. In one night, it was all catching up with her.

"Sit," he ordered.

"You don't get to boss me around–"

"I said sit! _"_

The back of her legs immediately hit the chair and she collapsed into the seat. She rarely saw this side of Kevin, and she'd never been on the receiving end before, but she knew exactly what he was capable of. He stood above her, and a shiver of fear ran down her back. "Kevin, I-"

"How could you?" he demanded, getting into her personal space. "You knew she was alive, and you didn't tell me?" His voice filled the space around them. "How long have you known?"

"Known what?"

He was in no mood for her antics. "How long?!"

"I saw the headlines a few days after it happened."

"Jesus Christ," he swore, and she saw his hands clenching to break something. She hoped it wouldn't be her. "Three years. You've known that she was alive this whole time and you didn't tell me?"

"Kevin–"

"You watched me suffer all this time, missing her, mourning her, drowning in guilt. You had to have known what this would mean to me."

"It wasn't my place to tell you."

His head snapped to look at her so fast she thought he might have whiplash. "Not your place? I gave up everything for her! I gave up my whole goddamn life because I thought I'd killed her! I became a monster–"

"You're not a monster, Kev."

He was undeterred. "Is this some kind of sick punishment?"

"What?"

"I left you alone for all those years. You had to have some resentment for that. I got out. I lived a life. I had a family, friends, a career, a future." Each of those words hit Brigid hard. She'd never had any of those things. "Was keeping this secret your way of punishing me?"

She was aghast at his accusation. "That's not how it happened."

"If you knew three years ago, what the hell have you been doing since then? Getting off on fucking with my life? I bet you've had a good laugh about this."

"You think I've enjoyed watching you suffer all this time?"

"What else should I believe? You had the power to change everything and you sat by and let me think I killed her for three years!"

She shook her head, angry heat rising in her face. "It's not my place!" she exclaimed. "I've done my job, Kevin. I've followed your friends and made sure they were safe–"

"And you never once thought that Alexis being alive was worth my time to know? Why Brigid? Just answer the goddamn question!"

"Because she was just as broken as you were!"

Silence wrapped around him as he processed her words. "What do you mean?"

"Kevin, it was a miracle that she survived. She had her whole life ahead of her, and after she got out of the hospital she looked like an empty shell. You both did. You weren't sober for almost eight months, and Alexis looked just as bad. Don't you get it? She was _broken._ I didn't tell you any of this because she deserved a chance to heal and move on with her life."

"Without me," he said quietly.

"Without you," she echoed. "Look at the life you've been living. This is our legacy, and you had to have known on some level that one day you wouldn't be able to run anymore. And everything that has happened in the last three years... you signed up for it. You knew what was expected of you, and you made the choice to be here. Alexis didn't. She didn't know about this part of your life. She didn't ask to be hurt so badly. She never had the choice when she was sucked into this mess. I was afraid that if I told you she was alive, you'd find her and she'd get sucked right back in. Yes, I kept it from you, but I only did it so she'd actually have the chance to live her life—the life she always should have had."

Kevin didn't answer, though she could tell he didn't like her words.

"How did you find out?" Brigid asked.

"She was in the fire. At first, I didn't think it could be her, but then I tracked her down."

Brigid's eyes widened. "You saw her? Did you talk to her?"

He didn't answer. "Does Nolan know?"

She sighed. "I don't see how he couldn't. It's his business to know these things."

That anger flared in his eyes again. "So she's been in danger this whole time–"

"He's not stupid, Kev. He's not going to attract attention by hunting her down when he's already got what he wants. He hurt her to control you, and as long as you remain his beck and call boy and she stays away, he's not going to make a move again."

"And what if she doesn't stay away? What if it's already too late? He's been on my ass about the fire, if he ever found out that she was the woman involved..."

"Fuck." Brigid rested her head in her hands.

Kevin abruptly stood up. "I'll take care of it."

"I can look into some of my sources," she offered.

"Don't trouble yourself," her brother sneered. "I've learned the hard way that I can't trust you, so consider yourself relieved of your duty where Alexis is concerned."

"Kevin–"

He took a step toward the door, and then turned back to her. "You know, if you had told me about it at any time in the last three years, I would have understood. I appreciate that you tried to protect her, Brig, I really do. But you still should have told me. I deserved to know, and it breaks my heart that the one person I thought I could trust has been keeping secrets from me."

She ducked her head. If only he knew the magnitude of the secrets she was keeping. The door slammed, and Brigid sank back down into the couch. She took a pull from the bottle of whiskey, grimacing as the liquid burned down her throat. Kevin loved the stuff. He drank it regularly, but Brigid saved it for emergencies.

She let her mind wander over the night's events, and she brought the bottle to her lips again. Her cover with Liam might be blown. Her brother didn't trust her. Despite all of her hard work and years of lies, Alexis was likely back on Nolan's radar. If this wasn't an emergency, she didn't know what was.

* * *

Author's Note: _Heart of Stone_ broke 100 reviews! I cannot believe it! As a special thank you, I'm offering another promotional scene to everyone who has reviewed any chapter of this story, including this one. It's my second-favorite version of Alexis and Kev's reunion, and I'm so excited to share it with you all. Just PM me to get the scene. Guest reviewers, there's instructions for you on my profile.

This chapter is dedication to Lori2279, and she knows why. :)

Next time: Alexis finds herself in a compromising situation, and Kevin does the wrong thing for the right reason.


	6. Chapter Six

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Six

"There's no escape, so keep me safe." - Kate Havnevik, "Grace"

* * *

Alexis didn't want to talk about it. Unfortunately, everyone else couldn't _stop_ talking about it. Liam was furious with her. He thought she'd gone off the deep end and her obsession with Kevin had gotten his precious fiancee hurt. "Lily" wasn't going to press charges, probably because she didn't want the scrutiny of law enforcement or the legal system. Liam refused to believe a word of Alexis' side of the story, and neither did anyone else.

Her dad wanted her to go back to therapy. Alexis hadn't been since she'd moved to LA, and she had no intention of going back. She didn't have the time or the energy to complain to a stranger about her sad, pathetic life. Kate managed to step out of her role as an overworked homicide captain for three minutes to tell Alexis that they could investigate her claims, but if Lily ended up being a real, normal person, then it could potentially make things worse. Kate was ever the voice of reason.

The only person who didn't seem to have any interest in the latest Castle family gossip was Javi. He didn't want to talk about it, and Alexis could have kissed him for his pragmatism. When Javi had showed up to the late-night scene they were working, he immediately got to business and didn't mention the event or the fact that everyone else seemed to view it as some sort of psychotic break.

"This is a change of pace," Javi said, looking down at the dead woman on the carpet. The whole scene looked like a domestic dispute gone wrong. The large, finger-shaped bruises on the victim's neck made the case a pretty straightforward one.

"I would say it's a nice change," Alexis responded, "but–"

"There's still a dead person on the floor."

"Yeah."

"Just call it job security," he said with a small smile. "As long as people keep doing terrible things, you and I get to pay the rent on time."

"That's a cheerful thought."

"You know me, Cheerful Charlie."

They worked efficiently through the scene, and as Alexis packed up her supplies, she asked, "How's Aaron?"

A genuine smile tugged at the man's mouth. "He's great. Lanie's already looking at preschools."

"Find any good ones?"

"Tons. But Lanie only wants the best for our little man, so all of her favorite picks are booked a few years in advance. Apparently you're supposed to shop for cribs and preschools at the same time."

Alexis laughed, then carefully asked. "So things are going better?"

He hesitated. "For the most part. With any luck the wedding won't get called off again."

" You two are already raising a child, juggling work and personal lives. It seems like you're already doing all the hard stuff. A wedding is just a big party."

He glanced down at the ground. "I think she still doesn't trust me."

"She'll get there."

"We'll see," he cleared his throat, obviously tired of the subject. "I hear you're digging up Ryan's case."

"Trying to," she said, attempting to sound nonchalant. "Turns out there's not much to dig up."

"Let me know if I can do anything to help—with any of it. I've got a punching bag if you need it."

"That actually sounds pretty nice. I took a few self defense classes in LA. Now I might have a chance at beating the punching bag."

"Just let me know."

"Thanks Javi."

They went their separate ways: Javi back to his car to start looking into the rest of the case, and Alexis to her car to bring her supplies back and start on the autopsy. She really appreciated that Javi didn't treat her like she was broken. Of course, he understood better than anyone else the ways a person can act out when they feel helpless.

Alexis tugged at the velcro on her vest. She hated wearing the thing, but since Liam's warning she had made sure to never leave it home. As soon as she got everything loaded and into her car, she'd finally be free of—

Two muted impacts slammed into her chest and knocked her to the ground. Her head smacked against the pavement, and stars spun in her vision. What the… Had she been shot?

Before she could call for help, heavy footsteps neared. She smelled gunpowder, though she wasn't sure if it was from the stranger or from the holes in her vest. Her eyes locked with the man in front of her, and fear overloaded her senses. She recognized him: cold, dark eyes and sharp features. She knew him from every nightmare she'd had in the last three years. He was the man who had put a knife in her chest. He pulled her to her feet, and she lashed out, shrieking, kicking, biting, thrashing against his hold on her.

She got a few good hits in, even dragging her fingernails down his face before he caught her wrist and twisted it behind her body until something popped and pain flared up her arm. She screamed and he slammed her face-first into a wall. There was a pinch in her neck, and she cried out at the pain and intrusion. She fought against his hold on her, but he was immovable. Panic clawed at the inside of her chest. Tears slipped down her face as a heavy, disabling exhaustion spread across body, and she became boneless.

"It's time to sleep, _cailín álainn."_

And she did.

* * *

"Miss Harper."

Alexis groaned, fighting against heavy eyelids. The world spun around her, and blood pounded in her ears.

"Wake up."

As she fought the weight that had settled over her body, something gentle and firm forced her head up. "It's not nice to keep people waiting." A sharp pain shot across her cheekbone, and she gasped, her eyes opening.

She was laying on a cold, grime-covered wooden floor. Red stains were spattered in random splotches. Alexis tried to back up, but found her arms and legs awkward and uncoordinated. The room spun around her when she tried to move. She couldn't put weight on her left wrist. She half-crawled a couple feet back, only to hit a wall.

"There you are," he said with a smile—a sick smile that promised horror in her near future. Chills ran down her spine and her body began to shake uncontrollably.

"You know I was ordered to kill you? I tried to be decent about it—make it quick and painless. Of course, ya had to be difficult. You had to fight." He sighed, gently touching the scratches down his face. "Like a wild animal who's not afraid of the hunter. It's unnatural."

She tried to reply, but her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. She couldn't even understand the sounds that were coming from her own lips. What was wrong with her body? What had he done to her?

The man leaned close. "I'll kill you. Don't you worry about that." He smiled again, and she couldn't stop the tears that slipped down her face as she shied away from him. He roughly grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him, and caught some of those tears with his tongue. She shuddered as hysterical sobs ripped through her chest. "I'm going to have some fun first."

* * *

Kevin drove like a madman, swerving through traffic, headed to that shitty safehouse he couldn't seem to escape.

Sloane had her. It was his worst fears come to life. His contacts had informed him after they'd witnessed the man shooting her twice just outside a crime scene. The arrogance of the action astounded Kevin. Thank God Alexis had been wearing her vest. After catching her when she tried to run, and rendering her unconscious, he'd taken her.

Kevin had tried to protect her from his world. He'd tried to keep her safe, so she never had to witness the horrors that were a part of his everyday life. Now that seemed impossible. Sloane was a malicious, sick bastard. If he didn't kill immediately, it meant he was opting to play with his food. He was playing with Alexis. The thought made Kevin's stomach heave and anger cloud his vision, but he couldn't let those emotions rule him.

If he was going to have any chance to save Alexis, then he'd have to act like the ruthless man whose life he'd been living for three years. He had to be just as sick as Sloane was. There was no other way to get her out of there.

She'd hate him for it, but that was okay. He could bear her hatred, her disgust and disappointment. As long as she was safe. That was all that mattered.

* * *

The first time Alexis' head was held under the icy water, she kept it together. She fought against the pressure on her oxygen-starved lungs, she tried to stay calm even though the water hurt. The man's unforgiving grip on the back of her neck hurt. With each repetition, the agony grew, and still she fought.

She knew how this would end. Ice water in her lungs, unconscious, pneumonia, death. That was the reality staring her in the face, and that was why she was determined to hang on for just a little bit longer. Maybe there was no escaping the fate in front of her; she'd cheated death for three years. Maybe she'd run out of time, but that didn't mean she'd just lie down and let it happen.

Oh God it hurt so bad. It burned, it stabbed—

The man pulled her out of the water, and Alexis wheezed, gulping in great lungfuls of air, shaking so hard she felt it in her bones. He let go and she crumpled to the floor. Voices floated over her head. At first she paid no attention to them, merely trying to get as much oxygen back into her body as possible, and then she realized the obvious fact that there was someone else in the room with her and her tormentor.

She lifted her head up, drawing her eyes up from a pair of shined black shoes to a hauntingly familiar face. Kevin. Kevin was there. He'd come into the room at some point, and was talking casually to her torturer.

"Kevin?" she wheezed, his name coming out as a garbled squeak. She tried to sit up, and ended up falling hard on her elbows.

Kevin looked at her with mild amusement, as if she'd just said something sort of funny—like a bad pun. A sick sensation twisted in her stomach.

"Seems to like you," the man said, his eyes darting between Kevin and Alexis.

"All the women like me, Sloane," Kevin responded with a salacious grin. "What's this one doing here?"

Confusion mixed with panic. Why was he acting like he'd never met her?

"Nolan ordered the hit, and I figured a pretty thing like her shouldn't go to waste." Sloane paused as he stepped toward Alexis and she tried to push herself back. "Of course, she's not very well trained, is she?" He hoisted her up by her arms, and those precious minutes of oxygen and the shock of seeing Kevin right in front of her triggered the stupidest response she could have. She fought, a pathetic, uncoordinated sort of fighting that probably hurt her more than it helped.

She screamed, biting his hand when he covered her mouth. The sensation of his fist against the side of her head was jarring, but she didn't expect to be immediately submerged in that icy hell. She couldn't help it, she gasped and pulled the frozen torture into her lungs. Pain blocked out everything else. Like a thousand small knives stabbing into her chest, she choked, coughed, sputtered, heaved, anything to get it out. Anything to make it stop. Alexis would have gladly taken a bullet to the head instead. She would have pulled the trigger herself.

Just when the white spots in her vision had started bursting, Sloane pulled her out and let her fall face first onto the floor. She heaved cold water onto the old wooden panels, coughing, wheezing, barely able to draw breath as her body tried to expel the foreign fluid. The gentle touch against her hair made her flinch, and she looked up, expecting to see Kevin, instead she saw her tormentor. "That's a good girl. You won't fight me again, will you?" he cooed.

Alexis just cried, laying on the floor, her body betraying her. Kevin stood a few feet away, watching the exchange while smoking a cigarette. This was well beyond her worst nightmare. It was a mindfuck of epic proportions. His eyes were cold, blank. He didn't seem at all bothered by the display of aggression in front of him. She couldn't get her mind to move past the cigarette perched between his lips. She wanted to pull it out, stamp on it, and slap him for being such an idiot. When he'd shown up on her doorstep, he was dressed casually. Now he looked like a fancier version of his old self. He still wore a three-piece suit, but the way the fabric fell across his body, like it was made for him, hinted at a much more expensive taste than he'd ever been able to afford while she knew him. She whimpered as Sloane's fingers pressed, quite purposely she was sure, against the bruise on her face, and he shushed her like one would a child.

"What'll you do with her?" Kevin asked.

"Does seem like shame to kill her doesn't it? Maybe I'll sell her. I bet I could make an easy hundred grand," Sloane raised his eyebrows suggestively. "You think she's a virgin?"

A colder, darker fear swept through her as Sloane's words settled into her brain. No. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. She jerked away from Sloane's touch, trying to run, trying to get away despite her uncooperative body and the cold fire that burned inside her lungs with every breath. He watched her struggle with amusement.

Kevin stepped forward, and she bumped against his legs. A small measure of comfort settled over her. Kevin wouldn't hurt her. He wouldn't let this terrible thing happen to her. Would he? And just as soon as the comfort slowed her racing heart, its beat picked back up. Kevin hadn't protected her from Sloane. He'd stood by and watched the man torture her. Would he stand by and let this happen too?

Kevin looked down at her, huddled at his feet like some kind of animal. "Even if she's not, she's pretty enough to pull down a profit."

His cold words pulled another round of tears from her eyes. Alexis opened her mouth to speak, to beg him to stop acting this way and help her. She was rewarded with an open fist to the side of her head, right over her ear. It wasn't painful; the angle and the shape of his hand created a loud, disorienting smacking noise and didn't actually hurt her, but shock made everything worse somehow. He'd hit her. Kevin had hit her.

"I didn't give you permission to speak," he said coldly.

Unexpected anger flared inside her and she glared at him. She wasn't some fucking animal. She was a person, and Kevin of all people should know that.

Her anger seemed to amuse him more than anything. "How much?"

Sloane looked taken aback by the offer. "I thought you never took spoils."

Kevin shrugged. "She's kind of cute." He hoisted her up by her arms, his eyes raking over her body, and Alexis struggled against his grip. He held her up, one arm wrapped too tight around her waist, the other caught in her hair, cradling her head. She tried to pull away, and he yanked her body flush against his, her hair fisted in his fingers. She couldn't look away.

"She's untrained," Sloane said.

A cruel smirk pulled at Kevin's mouth, inches from her own. His hand left her waist and skimmed up her shirt, cupping her breast. Alexis tried to back away as fear replaced any comfort Kevin's presence had given her, but he wasn't done yet. He lightly squeezed her breast and Alexis whimpered, tears running down her face in full force and tiny, quiet sobs shaking her frame. "That won't be so difficult," Kevin said, his blue eyes never yielding against the pain he had to have seen in her face. "How much?"

"Two-hundred grand."

Kevin dropped her. "Two hundred? You're joking."

"Friends and family discount."

He shook his head. "Come on, Sloane. I'm doing you a favor. You get some extra cash and Nolan never has to know that you're dealing on the side."

Kevin's implicit threat couldn't have been any clearer. "You're right. She's more trouble than she's worth," Sloane shrugged, pulling out his gun.

"And then you're out one-hundred-and-fifty grand," Kevin reminded him, smoothly stepping in front of Alexis. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. They were haggling over her like some old ladies at a flea market. Her life, her sanity, her future was on the line, and they were acting like she was just some high-end acquisition.

"One-ninety," Sloane responded.

"One-sixty."

Where had Kevin gotten so much money? He'd never had anything near that much when she'd known him before. Obviously his pay grade was better these days.

Sloane grinned. "One-seventy-five and I get to have a tumble with her before you take her. Call it a finder's fee."

Kevin slipped his hands in his pockets, thinking over the man's offer. "One-seventy and I don't share."

"You don't think she's worth more?"

Kevin looked down at her, his cold eyes scrutinous. "No, I don't. She's damaged, high on whatever rat poison you're feeding girls these days, and she's just filthy. As far as I'm concerned, I'm being generous. Take the offer."

His words rang in her drug-dulled mind as they continued haggling over her future. Damaged. He'd called her damaged. Like she was missing part, somehow unworthy and broken. Tears filled her eyes.

"Are you crying again?" Sloane snarled, incensed by Kevin's offer and the mess of a girl he was trying to get rid of. He stepped toward her and she cowered back, awkwardly stumbling. Kevin stayed in front of her.

"Touch her again and it's one-sixty-five," Kevin said with authority.

A shrill ringtone broke through the room, and Sloane pulled away to answer. Alexis listened with bated breath as he crossed the room and went through the door. Relief and fear and pain mixed through her body as she lay on the floor, tearless sobs wracking her frame. Soft footsteps drew near, and she flinched as gentle hands brushed her hair away from her face. Kevin kneeled next to her, watching her with that same detached expression, though she saw something flash in his eyes, something like pain.

They stared at one another, the air heavy with three years of pain and uncertainty. Tears slipped down her face anew. She couldn't reconcile the sight in front of her, couldn't match up the catalogue of pain across her body with the man she used to love. A small sob escaped her throat, and the pain on his face deepened.

The door banged open and Alexis' entire body jerked back. Sloane held the phone away from his body, covering it with his hand. "I've got to go. I want that money in my account by five."

"One-seventy?"

Sloane sighed, "Yes, ya cheap bastard. One-seventy."

Kevin nodded. "Consider it done."

The door slammed again, leaving them alone. Alexis wanted to feel relieved that she'd been spared, if only for a little while, but she couldn't. There was still too much to process, too much harm done. Too much broken trust.

"Will you come with me?" Kevin asked, breaking the silence.

She almost laughed at the question. As if she had a choice. As if he hadn't just treated her like animal that could be bought and paid for. She forced her mouth to form the words. "Go f-fuck yourself."

He sighed, stepping forward, and she automatically flinched. Alexis struggled to back away, but she was no match for his speed. He pulled a length of cloth out of his pocket, quickly securing it over her eyes. She began to hyperventilate, simultaneously trying to back away and clumsily pulling at the blindfold. Her hands soon met the same fate as he gently bound them in front of her.

She yelped when she felt his soft lips against her cheekbone, just below the bruise. His breath ghosted over her ear. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry." He scooped her up in his arms, easily batting away her uncoordinated, weak attempts to fight.

Panic consumed her. Where was he taking her? What was he going to do to her? "K-Kevin, please, t-take me home." Her voice cracked. Her body was betraying her again. Cradled in his arms, a heavy, numbing feeling pressed over her. She tried to fight it, tried to stay awake, but it was no use. Her forehead rested against his shoulder. Memories wrapped around her as her broken body gave in to the sedative, and she felt Kevin's hands moving over her hair, feeling painfully, ironically, like a lover's embrace.

"Just rest. You're safe now."

* * *

He'd failed her.

Kevin drove through the city streets. He was obeying Alexis' request and taking her home, though not the one she had meant. He was taking her to his apartment, her new, hopefully temporary home. Alexis was out cold in the backseat of his car, and not for the first time was thankful for the dark, tinted windows. He was also thankful for Sloane's inherently rotten morals. If he hadn't taken his time with Alexis, Kevin wouldn't have been able to intervene. She would have already been dead.

Not that the small detail would matter to her. She'd never see him the same way ever again. He was the man who'd taken her freedom, who'd sat by as she was hurt, who had called her damaged and had talked about market value while she huddled on the floor, drugged, terrified, crying. That was who he was to her now. He was certain of it.

He speed dialed his sister, barking out one simple order. "Get to my place as soon as you can. I've got a new patient for you." He tossed his cell on the passenger-side seat. He had no idea what Sloane had given Alexis. He'd seen the puncture mark on her neck when he had set her in the car, but that didn't exactly narrow it down. There could be any number of things in her system now, and he had no idea how long it would take to clear or what the side effects might be. He had to put his fight with Brigid to the side for a moment. If she'd been telling the truth about trying to protect Alexis, then she'd be of help to them. That was the most important thing right now: getting Alexis help.

He pulled up to his apartment, parking the car, gathering Alexis up in his arms, and taking the private elevator up to his place. These days Kevin had more money than he knew what to do with, and he'd learned over the years that simply flashing cash or a credit card opened all sorts of doors. Once inside his apartment, he lay her on his bed, taking her shoes off.

He untied her wrists and slipped the blindfold off of her face. It had been to protect her from hurting herself or seeing one of the many horrors that house held inside just as much as it had been to keep her from knowing where he lived. She looked like a mess, all bruises and tangled hair and grime-covered skin.

He brought a warm, wet cloth from the en-suite bathroom and gently wiped her face, then her neck and arms. Maybe Brigid could help Alexis get cleaned up. He paused at the familiar chain around her neck, running his fingers over the Celtic knot pendant. He didn't realize she still had it, much less wore it. Alexis stiffened under his touch, and he was surprised to see furious blue eyes staring back at him. He was wholly unprepared for the clumsy, right hook she delivered to the side of his face and was momentarily stunned and knocked back. She scrambled off the bed, limbs shaking and clumsy. Kevin responded by wrapping his arms around her middle and pulling her against him. She fought like a wild animal, kicking, biting, scratching. He had her pinned with her back against his chest. holding her arms in his hands so she couldn't break free.

"Let me go!" she screamed, seeming to have better control of her speech abilities. He hoped that meant the drug was wearing off.

"Alexis, stop it. You're going to hurt yourself."

"I'll never stop! I hate you! I'll never stop trying to get away from you!"

Her words cut him, but it was exactly what he deserved. "Alexis–"

"How could you? How could you let him do that to me? How could you treat me like that?"

"It was my only move."

"How could you?" she repeated, taking in great gulps of air as sobs rocked through her body. " _How could you?"_ He realized that she wasn't just talking about Sloane anymore. The question could apply to any number of sins he'd committed. "I loved you. I loved you and you…" She cried harder, and he felt her tears slip onto his hands.

Kevin took a chance and turned her in his arms. She buried her face in his chest, sobbing, brokenly—like her entire world had been ripped out from under her. He supposed it had. He held her in his arms, gently moving his hands through her hair, whispering, "I'm so sorry," over and over again. He walked them back a couple steps so he could sit on the edge of the bed. She collapsed onto his lap.

Her hands pressed against his face, and her lips clumsily covered his. He was so surprised he almost jumped out of his skin. She tasted like tears. He gently pushed her back, staring into her tear-stained face. Her eyes were glazed, slightly unfocused, with large pupils. She was still high as a kite. He shouldn't be kissing her, not like this.

She leaned forward again, and he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Not tonight." Probably not ever again.

Her face crumpled. "Why don't you love me anymore?"

That one cut right through his ribs, straight to his cold heart. He kissed her cheek. "I do love you. You're perfect."

"Then why do you keep leaving?"

He preferred her anger to these heartbreaking questions. "Because I'm not good for you anymore. You deserve better."

"But I want you."

He seriously doubted she'd feel that way later. "You have me."

She settled against his chest, clutching the front of his shirt. He tried to savor the feeling of her in his arms. He knew it was the last time it would happen. Soon enough her quiet tears turned to shallow breaths. She was out again. Hopefully this time she'd sleep it off.

After not nearly enough time, he let her head rest against his pillow and he covered her with the blanket. For years he'd dreamed of having her back in his bed, but he'd never imagined it would be like this. Guilt pressed in on him. Be careful what you wish for.

* * *

Kevin knocked back the glass of whiskey, then rested his face in his hands. He should be happy. He should be celebrating. How long had he wished to be with her again? To have her in his life? Except, he couldn't be happy. Not when she was lying unconscious in his bed, drugged, abused.

Brigid came into the den. Circles hugged her eyes. She'd arrived shortly after Alexis had fallen asleep again and had spent the last hour patching her up.

"How bad is it?" Kevin asked.

"Some bumps and bruises. Her wrist is sprained. I'm more concerned about whatever horse tranquilizer Sloane gave her. The IV fluids should help."

He nodded, taking another sip.

"Kev, how did this happen?"

"Nolan ordered a hit. Sloane decided to play with her first."

"Jesus..."

He paused, not sure if he should fill her in on the worst part of the whole fucking nightmare—the part that infuriated and depressed him in equal parts. "Sloane was going to sell her."

Her eyes widened. "I didn't know he was into that."

"Neither did I."

"How did you get her home?"

"I bought her."

He felt his sister's shock before he heard it. "Kevin! You bought her? Like a..." She stopped at the word, and he felt nauseous just thinking about it.

"It was my only move."

Brigid sighed, "I'm sorry. I know you did your best to keep her safe. You couldn't have planned for this."

"She's going to hate me."

"She'll forgive you."

His eyes widened at his sister's declaration, and he shook his head, "I don't deserve her forgiveness."

"Kevin," Brigid said sharply. "Use your brain for something other than self-loathing for just one second. Alexis is going to wake up hurting, in a strange place, and if she has any memories at all, they're going to be terrifying. People are going to be looking for her; I'm sure they're looking already. Nolan wants her dead, and you know Sloane would love an excuse to put a bullet between your eyes. If you're not careful, this situation is going to get us all killed. You're going to need a plan."

For a moment, Kevin considered fighting with his sister. How was he supposed to make a plan when all he could think about was the broken girl in his bed? And then he realized that Brigid was right. He needed a plan. He couldn't face Alexis again without one. Everything was about to change, and he needed to be ready for it.

* * *

Alexis woke up to warmth. There was a distinct scent to her pillow—one she struggled to identify though she was sure she knew it. She slid her bare legs over the fabric, her head pounding, feeling like her body had been wrung out. It took less than a minute of disoriented blinking to understand she had no idea where she was.

She tried to remember what had happened. All her muddled brain could do was shuffle through hazy visions of being sick, of pain and panic and... Someone restraining her. She tried to pull the memories apart, to recall specifics, but they were slippery. They eluded her.

She sat up, her body protesting every breath and movement. The world around her spun, and she rested her head in her hand, wincing at the pain that shot through her wrist. She pulled back, surprised to see a compression bandage wrapped around her arm.

What the hell had happened to her?

She was in a room she didn't recognize, a bed she'd never slept in, and... clothes she didn't remember changing into. The white button-up shirt was soft and cool against her skin, but the panic that had settled over chest wiped out all comforts.

"Good morning."

The familiar voice brought goosebumps to her skin, and she slowly turned her head, her wide eyes locking with a pair of soft blue ones. Kevin sat on the other side of the room, watching her.

Just like that, memories tumbled through her mind. Sloane hurting her, Kevin with a cigarette between his teeth, the two of them arguing about money. Dread thumped against the pit of her stomach. He'd bought her. He'd paid a lot of money to have her. She felt sick.

He sat forward in his seat, and she scrambled backwards until her back hit the the iron-wrought headboard. She fisted the sheets, pulling them against her body in a pathetic attempt to protect herself. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched and waited for him to advance on her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said.

She didn't believe him. Why wouldn't he hurt her? He believed he owned her.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you anything at all?"

"Where are my clothes?" Her throat was dry and her voice cracked with disuse.

"Drying."

"How long have I–"

"You've been asleep on and off for a couple days."

A couple of days? Her family had to be worried sick. "I need to go home." She rushed to the edge of the bed, throwing her bare legs over the edge and standing. "I want my clothes." The sudden change in position made spots appear in her eyes, and her legs buckled beneath her.

Kevin caught her before she crumpled to the floor, helping her sit on the edge of the bed. "Take it easy. You're not one-hundred percent yet. Are you sure you're not hungry?"

"I need to go home," she repeated, shaking her head

"You are home," he said softly.

Cold fear slid down her spine. He couldn't have said what she'd thought he'd just said. No. That was impossible. She saw regret in his eyes, but he was unyielding. Did he really think he could just keep her here? "Listen, whatever you paid that guy, I'm sure my dad would pay you back–"

He gave her a look of horror. "I don't want–," he sighed. "I don't want anyone's money."

"Then what do you want?"

"You're caught in the middle of something terrible right now, something that can get you and me and a lot of other people killed. I can keep you safe."

She shook her head automatically. She didn't believe him. She couldn't wrap her head around what he was saying to her. "My family can keep me safe. My dad and Kate—"

"They can't protect you, Alexis. They'd just be caught in the crossfire."

"No," she tried again. "I'll be fine. Everything will be fine. I promise not to tell anyone what happened. I won't tell them about you."

He sighed. "It's too late for that."

Anger shot through her chest. "What do you mean it's too late? I was just living my life, and then—" She glared at him. "This is your fault, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Then why the hell do you think you can keep me safe? You certainly didn't keep me safe from that psycho."

"I promise you'll go back to your life as soon as—"

"How long?"

"As long as it takes."

"No!" she screeched. "I have a family. I have a life! I can't just give that all up to stay here."

The sad resignation in his eyes sent a cold shiver down her spine. "You don't have a choice."

* * *

Author's Note: At least they're back together now?

This chapter is dedicated to my amazing beta, JJS4. I'm always sending her stuff and asking, "Did I go too far? Is it too dark?" So if you like this story, be sure to thank her because it wouldn't be nearly as good without her input.

Thanks, everyone, for your support. I'd kiss you all if I could. Please, please, please review!

Next time: Alexis and Kevin face the joys and discomforts of living together once again.


	7. Chapter Seven

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Seven

"I don't belong to you." - Adna, "Thank God for Sending Demons"

* * *

She wasn't eating.

It had been two days since she'd woken up and she wouldn't eat a damn thing. She'd been four days without food in total and barely drank enough water to stay conscious. Kevin was ready to lose his mind over it. Each time he or Brigid brought her food, it came back untouched. Only Alexis would defy the odds and survive a terrible attack then stubbornly starve herself to death. He saw the quiet defiance in her eyes every time she looked at him, and he knew what she was thinking: He might have trapped her in his apartment, but he couldn't control her. He couldn't make her do anything he wanted her to, even when her life depended on it.

What she didn't realize was that he was dangerously close to holding her down and force-feeding her. He'd probably enjoy it too.

Kevin tapped on the bedroom door before pushing it open with one hand, the lunch tray in the other. Alexis lay on her side on the giant bed, facing away from him.

"Lunchtime," he said with forced cheer.

She didn't acknowledge him, and Kevin set the tray down before walking over to her side of the bed. He gently shook her, and her tired, glassy eyes opened. She was wearing the same dark button up shirt and jeans that she'd been wearing when she was taken. Kevin had had Brigid get her some clothes—nothing fancy, just comfortable, clean, well-fitting clothes so she'd have something to wear. Alexis wouldn't touch them. She just wore that button up and jeans, her last bit of her life outside his apartment.

"Sit up," he ordered gently, and to his surprise she actually did it. She stifled a few coughs into the sleeve of her shirt. She'd picked up some kind of bug from the time spent in Sloane's custody. Of course, a weak, malnourished body wouldn't be able to fight off even the smallest cold. Kevin knew how filthy that water must have been. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd gotten pneumonia, but the redhead wasn't letting Brigid near her, so they couldn't be sure.

"Brought some lunch," he said unnecessarily. "Smells delicious doesn't it?" The set the tray in front of her. It held a bottle of water, a small bowl of soup, and a sandwich.

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm sure that's not true." She looked ravenous, and he heard her stomach growling. He took a small bite of the sandwich right in front of her. "Mm... It's really good." He waved the sandwich in front of her face, inches from her mouth. "Want some?"

"No."

The wave of helpless anger that shot through him was almost crippling. "No?"

"No. I'm not hungry."

Okay, maybe a different tactic was needed. Kevin looked into her tired, pale face once more then glanced around the room. "You know, you don't have to stay in here. This whole apartment is open to you. Do you want to eat in the kitchen? Or maybe outside on the terrace?"

"I get to go _anywhere_ inside this apartment? How generous. How will I ever thank you?" Sarcasm dripped heavy from each word.

He took a deep breath. He had to hand it to her. Nobody else was as good as pushing his buttons as her. "You're not a prisoner–"

She snorted.

"–you're a guest," he finished.

"A guest who doesn't get to leave when she wants to."

"We've had this conversation already." And they had. Every single time they'd spoken in the two days she'd been awake, Alexis had reviled him for keeping her at his apartment. He explained that Sloane knew where to find her, that he knew her name and where she lived and that going back to her life was as good as handing herself over to the madman. Kevin had reminded her that certain people wanted her dead and the best thing was for those people to believe she was actually dead, that her family couldn't protect her, but Kevin's pragmatic message never swayed her. She was in complete denial.

"I'm not done talking about–" A hacking cough cut off her complaint. He instinctively reached for her, resting a hand on her shoulder as her weak body shook, and she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me."

This was absolute torture, and Kevin could feel his patience waning. She was sick; she needed food, medicine, all the things she was stupidly keeping at bay. "Alexis, you have to eat. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"You don't get to tell me what to do. I'm not your property."

He set the tray on the bedside table, taking slow breaths to manage his anger. "I never said you were."

"The evidence speaks."

"What evidence?"

"You bought me, didn't you? You took me away from my life. You locked me up in this apartment. I don't belong to you, Kevin. You can't just make me do whatever you want!" Her voice was soft, but grew it volume. It seemed she had been subsisting solely on her hatred for him.

"So you're starving yourself. Why? To punish me? Brilliant idea. You sure you didn't hit your head when Sloane took you?"

She glared at him, pausing to cough some more.

"You should let Brigid treat you," he said in a softer voice.

Alexis just shrugged. "I'll go to a real doctor when I'm out of this hell-hole."

"And will that be before or after you starve to death?"

A small, rueful smile tugged at her pale lips. "I guess that's up to you."

He wasn't prepared for the fury her smartass comment elicited. For days he'd watch her starve herself, refuse medical treatment, clinging with stupid stubbornness in that way that only Alexis could to what she wanted. And then she'd put the consequences on his shoulders? She was trying to make him feel out of control and helpless. It was a good, old-fashioned power play. What she didn't realize was that he'd been playing this game with much more ruthless adversaries for the last three years. She was out of her league. She wanted to play with him? Then she'd better be prepared to lose.

With thoughtless efficiency, Kevin yanked her forward by her good arm and tore open her shirt. Buttons flew everywhere as she let out a small scream. She slapped him in the face repeatedly, but she was so malnourished that he almost didn't register her weak attempts to fight, her dry throat begging him to stop. Hacking coughs racked her chest as he jerked the fabric off of her arms and started on her jeans. She fought a little harder to keep those. She kicked at him, tried to scratch and bite him, but before long he'd yanked her pants off as well.

"Give them back!" Clad in only her bra and underwear, she threw herself at him, trying to hold onto her last possessions. "Those are mine!"

It was all too easy to defend against the onslaught. He tossed the clothes onto the floor, catching her around the waist when she dove for them. He shoved her back into the mattress, straddling his weight across her hips and pinning her wrists down.

"Let go!" she whined, tears slipping from her eyes.

"You do not get to tell me what to do," he snarled, getting right up in her face. "You don't get to starve yourself or refuse medical treatment just to punish me. I've been nice, but if you keep this shit up, you're not going to like the result."

She weakly struggled against him, and he set a little bit more weight across her body, held her wrists just a little tighter. She winced at the pressure on her sprained wrist, but he didn't let up. "Here's how it's going to go from now on. You will eat three meals a day and you'll let Brigid help you. You'll act like an adult and take care of yourself."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll burn those clothes you love so much." She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. "And if that doesn't work I'll tie you up and you'll get a feeding tube. You're not going to win this one, sweetheart. You want to act like a prisoner, I'll treat you like a prisoner. But if you're a good girl, if you do what I say and stop this childish bullshit, I'll treat you like a guest. Do you understand?"

She watched him with wide, tear-filled eyes. She was shaking underneath his touch.

"Do you understand?" he repeated, in a lower tone.

She nodded, and a few tears escaped down her cheeks. He gently wiped them away. "Good. Now sit up."

She returned to her spot, shallowly sobbing, and he set the tray in front of her. She reached for the spoon, and he batted her hand away. "Hands in your lap."

Her eyes widened as she realized what he meant to do, and he saw that familiar fury ignite in those blue depths. She began to shake harder, a byproduct of her anger. "No."

"Hands in your lap or your shirt is kindling." His tone brooked no argument.

She complied, and he brought the soup-filled spoon to her lips. "Open."

Tears rolled down her cheeks in a flood, but she followed his instruction. He fed her until the soup and half the sandwich were gone. At that point she begged him to stop, saying she couldn't eat anymore. He wasn't surprised. Four days without food had hollowed out her stomach. She had cried the entire time, embarrassed, degraded, wearing only her undergarments as he fed her like a small child. He hated her tears. She cried every time she was in his company, it seemed, and he hated it. He hated showing her just how much power he held over her, but this had to stop. She had to stop fighting him. She had to stop hurting herself. She'd always been stubborn, willful. Years before he'd loved that passionate spark in her eyes when she was determined to get her way. Now it was just a liability.

He wiped the crumbs away from her mouth with the napkin and left the half-empty water bottle on the bedside table. "Next time you'll feed yourself, and you'll eat every bite. Got it?"

She nodded, staring down at her hands, clenching the blanket. She muffled a feeble cough in her bare arm.

"Brigid will be here later."

She didn't answer, and after a beat, he stood up and tossed her clothes onto the bed next to her. She scrambled, holding them against her chest like a lifeline. The image made something akin to guilt tug at his heart.

"Alexis–"

"Get out!"

With a resigned sigh, he took the tray and left her alone.

* * *

The girl had Rice Krispies in her lungs. Snap. Crackle. Pop.

Brigid took the stethoscope out of her ears, then offered it to her patient. "Want to hear what pneumonia sounds like?"

"I know what it sounds like." Alexis put the nubs in her ears, moving the round, flat end over her chest, breathing deeply and trying not to cough too hard.

"That's right," the blonde said with a smile. "I'd forgotten you're a proper doctor."

"And what are you?"

"An RN with way too much freedom." She tilted her head to the side. "Or responsibility. Depends on how you look at it."

"So that part wasn't a lie then," Alexis said, her tone dripping with disdain.

"A lot of parts aren't lies," Brigid answered simply. The best lies were founded in truth, after all.

"Except everything Liam thinks he knows about you. Why are you stringing him along? Insider information?"

"I'm not stringing him along. I love him." Brigid could tell her patient didn't believe a word she'd just said, and Brigid couldn't blame her. It did look pretty suspicious. "Hold out your arm. I'm going to take some blood."

"Why?"

"You're the doctor, you tell me."

Alexis stayed silent, and Brigid tied the tourniquet around her upper arm. "Relax. I'm checking your white cell count. We need to see how bad this infection is before we just throw antibiotics at it. I also want to run a few tests to make sure your system is healthy enough to handle any more medication." Her eyes softened as she looked at the redhead. "You've been through the ringer."

Alexis looked away, blinking back tears. Secretly, Brigid was impressed with Alexis' strength. She'd watched Kevin worry about the redhead for days, trying to figure out how to get her to eat, how to make her comfortable. Alexis may think she was at Kevin's mercy, but she had more power than she realized. She winced as the nurse dug the needle into her arm.

"Sorry. You're still pretty dehydrated." She readjusted the needle and Alexis watched her blood fill the plastic vials. The nurse then checked her pulse, her temperature, and her blood pressure. "You've got a bit of a fever, which I'm sure you already knew, and your pulse is a little high—"

"It's not like I'm stressed out or anything," Alexis deadpanned.

"—but your blood pressure is looking better. Kevin told me you ate today?"

Her face went beet red. "It wasn't my choice."

"Did you eat very much?"

"You want a calorie count? I ate until I was full, even though it tasted terrible."

"I'll pass on your review to my brother." Brigid packed the vials and her supplies in her bag. "Anything else I should know about?"

"I want to go home." Tears filled her eyes and Brigid couldn't help but feel bad for the younger woman. She'd been in the middle of living her life and had been ripped out of it twice now.

Brigid squeezed her hand, unsure if the girl would tolerate much contact. "You'll be home before you know it, and this will all seem like a dream."

"You mean a nightmare."

Brigid didn't argue with her. "I'm going to run these tests and pick up some meds for you. I'll be back later tonight. Try to get some rest." She closed the bedroom door on Alexis' quiet sobbing. She pulled out her cell phone as she punched in the code for the elevator, the only way out of the apartment. Kevin tried to stay in the apartment as much as possible, but he still had work to do.

"What?"

"Hello to you, too," she answered. "Did Ma never teach you manners?"

Brigid almost felt her brother's eyes roll through the phone. "I'm an asshole, you're a liar. We're all terrible. What's the verdict?"

"Pneumonia."

"Shit."

"I've seen worse cases. I'm on my way to the lab now, and we'll get some meds in her by dinnertime. Good job getting her to eat, by the way."

"I didn't have a choice."

"She said your cooking sucks."

She heard him huff through the phone. "I made her favorites."

Yes, her brother definitely had it bad for the young doctor. Alexis thought she was a prisoner, but she had the power to bring one of the most feared men in the syndicate to his knees. Brigid was glad Kevin couldn't see her smile through the phone. "To be fair, everything sucks to her right now."

She heard muffled voices yelling in the background. "I've gotta go."

"See you tonight."

* * *

Kevin stepped into his apartment, thoroughly exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally, you name it, he was tired. It was almost midnight. He'd been working late overseeing a deal on Nolan's behalf. The old man couldn't leave his bed. Just speaking seemed to exhaust him. The end was near for the old monster, and Kevin wasn't a bit sad about it. The old man's death would cause upheaval, and Sloane seemed to already be positioning himself in preparation for that eventuality, but Kevin had a plan. A plan that would solve everyone's problems. Sloane would no longer be a threat, Alexis could go back to her life, his friends would no longer be used against him, and even Brigid would benefit from it. His plan would change everything for the better; he just needed some time to execute it.

Normal men came home to dinner, maybe some quality time with their spouse and sex if they were lucky. Kevin came home to his sister reviewing paperwork at his dining room table.

"Hi honey, how was work?" she asked without looking up. "Made a scotch on the rocks for you. Better hurry before the rocks melt."

Moments like that reminded him why he could never stay mad at his sister for long. Not that he'd forgiven her, of course. They were a long way from that. He took a seat next to her, sipping his drink. "What are these?" Acronyms and numbers were listed in a giant table on each paper.

"Your lover girl's lab work."

"She's not my anything anymore."

Brigid gave him a strange look. "You could change that, you know."

He snorted. "I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed."

"Don't you love her?"

"She hates me. She told me so herself."

"She doesn't hate you. She's scared and lonely and sick and has no control over her life right now."

"And that's my fault?"

She sighed, "You can be such an idiot sometimes."

"Hey–"

"Kev, your dream girl is stuck here, sleeping in your bed every night. You get to see her every day and she can't leave."

"Thanks for somehow making me feel worse."

"This is your second chance, dummy! You know as soon as this is over, Alexis will walk away. If you love her, if you want to be with her, the least you could do is make it hard for her to leave."

"She thinks I'm a controlling, terrible monster."

"So show her you're not. Talk to her, spoil her, apologize. Take advantage of this opportunity."

He frowned. "Why are you suddenly interested in my love life?"

She smiled, though he could tell it was forced. "What can I say? I'm a hopeless romantic." Her eyes darted back down to the paperwork before she gathered them up. "She ate dinner and had a dose of antibiotics."

"She give you a fight?"

"Not this time. I'll be back tomorrow to give her another dose."

"You make house calls to give people a pill?"

"IV antibiotics," Brigid said shortly

"Isn't that going a bit overboard?"

"Her body's been through a lot. An aggressive treatment seems like a better option."

He nodded. "I'll take your word for it. Thank you for looking after her."

"Anytime." She kissed his cheek. "Think about what I said. If you want things to change, there's no time like the present."

She left Kevin alone, and he savored the peace that had settled in the apartment. He wasn't so ready to believe that Alexis didn't truly hate him. She had every reason to hate him, after all. Kevin didn't see what he could do about that. It wasn't as if he could let her leave—he wasn't about to sign her death certificate—and short of giving her what she wanted, he didn't see how she'd ever warm up to him.

He finished his drink and snuck into his bedroom sometime later. Alexis had taken it over and he now slept in the guest room, but he still had to get some clothes from time to time. He quietly stepped through the darkness, heading to the closet. He didn't want to wake her up. She needed all the rest she could get.

Kevin stopped when he heard quiet whimpers coming from the bed. He sighed. He'd hoped that at some point she would stop crying and come to accept what was happening. Guess that point hadn't happened yet. His sister's words rang in his head. Should he try to comfort her? Could she even get any comfort from him after everything he'd done?

A particularly heartbroken sob made the decision for him. "Alexis? Are you okay?"

She immediately quieted.

"I heard you crying. Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine," was her broken reply. He almost laughed. She was such a terrible liar. In the darkness he crossed to her side of the bed and flipped on the lamp.

She looked like hell: pale face, swollen red eyes, strands of hair clung to her wet cheeks. She was wearing one of the pajama sets he'd given her. She must be hiding the clothes he'd threatened to take from her. The worst part was her eyes. She looked like she'd entirely given up hope, like she'd never be happy again. A few tears slipped down her cheeks, and he couldn't stop himself from catching them with his thumb. She flinched at his touch, and guilt almost knocked him off his feet. He vowed in that moment to never make her feel like she needed to be afraid of him ever again.

He stroked his thumb up and down her cheekbone. She didn't move away, didn't lash out. After a several seconds, she actually seemed to sink into his touch. Slowly, carefully, so he wouldn't spook her, he perched himself next to her on the bed, and began to drag his fingers across her scalp. The soothing effect was instantaneous. Her eyes closed and her head bowed forward.

His heart raced in his chest as she settled against him. He had a feeling her actions had nothing to do with him and everything to do with how unsafe and out of sorts she felt. She hadn't changed her mind about him, she was just low on options and needed comfort. She wasn't even looking at him. She wasn't speaking to him. He was a physical reassurance only, and if that was the case, he'd make sure it worked.

His hands slipped down to her neck, massaging the stiff muscles and endless knots he found there. She mewled at the sensation of his hands on her, clenching the fabric of his shirt in her hands.

His nose brushed her ear. "Lay down on your stomach."

There was curiosity and uncertainty in those baby blues.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Still, she was apprehensive.

"Please?" he asked.

His request did the trick, and she followed his instruction. He reached in a drawer on his bedside table—quickly because there was no need to have a conversation about the contents within it—and placed a small amount of lavender-scented oil onto his hands. He slipped the straps of her top off her shoulders.

The second his hands began to knead the muscles in her shoulders, she almost jumped out of her skin. He shouldn't have been surprised. Brigid had said it herself: Alexis' body had been through a lot. She was probably a catalogue of aches and pains. He massaged her scalp again, whispering sweet nothings in Irish until she relaxed.

Then his hands slipped over her skin, gently teasing the knots and aches loose. Once her shoulders were done, his hands slipped up her arms, massaging those muscles as well. He avoided the bruises that were scattered over her skin. The sight of them made him sick. She didn't deserve to be hurt. She didn't deserve any of the terrible things that had happened to her.

He slid his hands underneath her camisole, massaging the tension out of her lower back, which must have really been aching because she sighed with each loosened muscle. Once he was done, he spent a while dragging his fingers up and down her back, mesmerized by the calming scent in the air and the feeling of her soft skin beneath his fingertips. When he forced himself to pull back, he found Alexis sleeping soundly. Mission accomplished.

He pulled the covers up around her and couldn't stop himself from kissing her forehead. There were so many words inside his heart:

 _I love you._

 _Please forgive me._

 _I'll never let anything happen to you._

Instead he whispered, "Sweet dreams."

Kevin grabbed his clothes and returned to the guest room. As his head rested against the pillow, he couldn't help but think about the woman in his bed and how much he wished he could lay next to her, hold her in his arms. He knew this was difficult for her. She was scared and alone and faced with a man she used to love but no longer knew anything about. He wanted nothing more than to take that fear away, to make her feel comfortable and safe instead of helpless and trapped.

He needed to be kinder, more patient. He needed to show her that she had nothing to be afraid of, that he cared about her. That he loved her. Unlike Brigid, Kevin knew that there was no chance for Alexis to love or trust him again. He'd already broken whatever tenuous connection they had after three years apart. Even if she miraculously forgave him, she'd never want to stay with him. It was fruitless to try to earn her love back, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to make her life as easy as possible while she was with him. He could bear her hatred, her broken trust, the undeniable fact that he'd lost her love. He could carry those weights with him for the rest of his life as long as she was happy.

So that was what he would do. He'd try to make her happy.

* * *

Alexis awoke to bright, late-morning light coming in from the window. She glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to see that it was almost noon. She hadn't slept that late in years. Taking a moment to stretch and wake up, she breathed in the scent from her pillow. She'd been sleeping on Kevin's side for the last few days. The pillow smelled like him. Alexis remembered those rare mornings when he'd be up before her and she'd snuggle into the space on his side of the bed, enveloping herself in its leftover warmth and the scent of him. She missed him—the Kevin she'd known before everything had fallen apart.

This new Kevin... she didn't know how to feel about him. The air and sheets around her smelled like lavender. She tried to understand why he'd treated her that way last night, after everything else that had happened. She didn't understand him anymore. One moment he could be so passionate it overwhelmed her. Like the night he'd showed back up in her life, he'd kissed her, made love to her, told her that he'd never stopped loving her. That in itself was too much to process.

Then he treated her like his property—a decision that reflected a side of him she'd never seen before. She'd seen that side again when he'd torn her clothes off and threatened her. She wasn't ready to forgive him for either of those actions yet.

And then there were those softer moments, the middle ground between all-consuming passion and cold indifference, like last night, like the way he'd treated her when she was drugged. He'd called her perfect. He'd been the quiet comfort she'd needed after learning that her life was forever changed. He'd saved her life and taken her freedom. Alexis didn't know how to quantify this new Kevin.

She stretched once more before sitting up and draping her legs over the side of the bed. A coughing fit took over, and she took a swig of water from the bottle on the bedside table. She felt the feverish ache in her bones, but its weight seemed lighter than it had the day before. The antibiotics were already helping.

There was a light knock at the door before Kevin stepped inside the room. "Good morning, beautiful." He smiled at her in a way that made her confused heart trip over itself. She looked down at her lap, trying to hide the blush that spread across her cheekbones. Before she'd met this new Kevin, she'd never wanted to punch and kiss someone at the same time.

He walked around the bed and stood in front of her. Not so close that she felt smothered, but not too far away either. "How are you feeling?"

She blinked at him and settled for a monosyllabic answer. "Better."

"I've got a surprise for you."

For a split second she thought his surprise might be her freedom, and just as quickly she kicked herself for it. He wouldn't let her leave. They'd established that point several times. She watched him open the doors to the balcony, and shock mixed with instant hunger at the small, sunlit table that was laden with food and a gigantic bouquet of roses.

His smile was shy, eager to please. "Do you want some breakfast?"

She could only nod. Why was he doing this for her? She stood on shaking legs, crossing the short distance to the table. The warm sunlight on her skin made her want to cry. She jumped when Kevin draped a light blanket across her bare shoulders, and he quickly resumed their previous distance. He began to walk back inside.

"Aren't you staying?" she asked before she could stop herself.

His eyes widened at her question. "I figured you'd want some time alone."

The fact that he'd considered her feelings at all made her do a double-take. "You're right."

He nodded, seeming both unsurprised and disappointed by her response. "Enjoy your breakfast."

Alexis breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally alone. She'd spent a lot of time alone in the last two days, but this was different. This was a quiet, comfortable moment to reflect without worrying about Kevin or Brigid bursting into the room. This was exactly what she needed, and Alexis wondered how Kevin knew what she needed before she did.

She dug into her breakfast, eggs Benedict with fresh fruit, her newfound hunger running the show. As she enjoyed the flavors moving across her tongue and the growing feeling of fullness in her belly, she took a moment to observe her surroundings. The balcony was connected to a bricked in terrace that seemed to run the length of the apartment. Rather than offering a view, it afforded privacy. Ivy grew up the side of the wall from planter boxes, and the whole area held a light, floral fragrance. Alexis listened to the sounds around the area. Muffled car horns echoed in the distance. She was likely still in New York. That thought comforted her. At least she hadn't been taken far away. If she could escape, then it would be that much easier to be reunited with her family.

Anxiety churned in her stomach at the reminder of her family. They must be out of their minds with worry. That familiar helplessness washed over her and she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. No, she needed to keep it together. She couldn't cry and fall apart anymore. Her fingers traced over the IV port in the back of her hand as her mind replayed her conversation with Kevin's sister the night before. Brigid had brought her dinner, administered the antibiotics, and calmly informed Alexis of her lab results.

Alexis needed to get healthy again. She needed to be strong and smart and find a way out of this strange, benevolent captivity that had been forced on her. She had to ignore the helplessness, the loneliness, the plethora of confusing emotions that threatened to consume her. Her fingertips pressed just below her belly button, against the fragile life-form that was no bigger than a poppy seed.

Because the thing was, Alexis wasn't alone. Not anymore. Thanks to a foolish, passionate night with Kevin, she'd never be alone again, and her life wasn't the only one in danger.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. You guys are amazing, and your feedback never fails to motivate me to write faster and to make this story the best it possibly can be. Please keep it up and review! I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Next time: Kevin fights an uphill battle to make Alexis happy, and Castle employs desperate means to find his daughter.


	8. Chapter Eight

Heart of Stone

by

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Eight

"I won't surrender." - Ingrid Michaelson, "This is War"

* * *

His baby had been missing for thirty-four days.

And what little evidence they'd had to begin with had long since dried up.

According to the few witnesses at the scene, a man had shot Alexis twice with a silenced weapon when she was getting into her car and then drove off with her. Before abducting her, he'd shot and killed three nearby officers. Probably to make sure Alexis didn't have backup.

Traffic cams had been tampered with near the scene, and the car the witnesses _thought_ he'd used to get away had been left behind, clean of any evidence besides a few strands of Alexis' hair. They had no leads on the other vehicle.

Beckett and Esposito had interviewed the witnesses extensively, and a police sketch had been created to help find the bastard. The FBI had gotten involved, and their facial recognition software hadn't yielded any further information. It was like this monster had come out of nowhere and snatched his daughter away, disappearing completely.

They'd waited for the kidnapper to contact them. There had been nothing but radio silence. No demands. No threats.

Rick sat in his office, mulling over the electronic board he'd created to solve his own daughter's abduction. He didn't even know if Alexis was still alive.

"Hey," Kate rested her hand on his shoulder, setting a mug of warm coffee on the desk.

He turned slightly, taking her hand into his own. "Any news?"

She sat in his lap, and his arms wrapped around her. "The same."

He rested his head against her neck, staying silent. There was nothing left to say. As their leads and hopes disappeared, so had their words.

"We've got eyes all over the city, Castle," Kate reminded him. The investigation wasn't over, and they were searching any live-streaming camera they could access: ATMs, traffic cams, security cams, anything that could catch either the predator or the girl who had become his prey.

"I know."

"We'll find her."

Again, he refused to comment. It wasn't that he disagreed with his wife, and it wasn't that he'd given up on his daughter. He just couldn't understand how this endless, soul-wrenching search had become his life. He'd almost lost Alexis twice now. Paris and when she'd been stabbed three years earlier. Both of them had made him face the inconceivable possibility of a future without his daughter, and he'd been so, so lucky that they both ended they way they had.

Alexis was kind, loving, generous, and totally nonthreatening. There was no reason for her to get pulled into these scenarios over and over again. He'd been asked—and had asked himself—how she could have become the victim of a brutal kidnapping. Was it her family connections? Had she just been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Over and over again, he had no answer. And Rick hated not having the answers.

Was she hurt? Was she frightened? Were they treating her well? Was she being abused?

Was she even still alive?

He was beyond wits end; he'd fallen into good, old-fashioned desperation. And in that desperation, in the hours and days and weeks that his mind had spent slamming against those impossible questions, he'd come to one solution.

"Rick?" Kate prompted, gently lifting his chin so he'd look her in the eye.

He looked into his wife's warm brown eyes—the same eyes that had kept him grounded through the worst thirty-four days of his entire life.

"I want to find Hunt."

* * *

Alexis was bored.

Her captivity had lasted about a month so far with no relief in sight. In that time she'd recovered from pneumonia and had gained back the weight she'd lost from her hunger strike. Thanks to her very surprising pregnancy, she'd become almost single-minded in her desire to be healthy again. In the back of her mind, she worried about the baby's health. Brigid had brought her prenatal vitamins, a book about pregnancy, and promised to set up a "field trip" for an ultrasound as soon as she could. Alexis still didn't know what Sloane had given her, and then she'd starved herself to prove a point. If either of those things had the power to hurt her child's health now or in the future, well, she needed to do everything she could to rectify that.

So Alexis had started exercising every day in Kevin's home gym, she'd cut back on coffee, and when Kevin had asked her what kind of foods she liked to eat, rather than telling him to stock the cupboards with wine and the processed foods she'd been living on for years, she'd asked for organic produce and whole-grains. She made a point to sleep whenever she was tired, which meant daily naps, and long, uninterrupted nights. Both were a luxury she hadn't enjoyed since before med school.

In the thirty-odd days since she'd found out she was responsible for growing a human life, her body had already begun to change for better and worse. Morning sickness had started right on time a couple weeks earlier. Her emotions ran from one end of the spectrum to another, often within the same breath. She was tired often, and aching even more often. Pickles had become her favorite food group.

The new kindness she was showing her body helped. When she was tired, she slept. Years of overexerting herself had left her with a deep kind of exhaustion, and she was chipping away at that exhaustion with each restful day in captivity. Thanks to her healthy options, and perhaps those damn hormones, her skin had never been better. Despite all the uncomfortable side effects of pregnancy, Alexis was feeling stronger, healthier, more energetic than she had in years. The irony was not lost on Alexis that after a month in Kevin's custody, she'd never been healthier.

She didn't know how much long she'd be able to keep her pregnancy from Kevin. He'd caught her throwing up twice, and she'd explained that it was food poisoning and had spent a few days in bed to make it seem convincing, which was more of a vacation that she was willing to admit.

The only problem with her captivity-turned-creepy-vacation—besides the obvious fact that she was being held against her will—was that it was boring. Kevin brought her an endless supply of books, magazines, and movies, but she couldn't access the internet or watch television. There was no way to connect to the outside world. After going full-speed for so many years, Alexis found herself starving for some sort of stimulation. She'd explored Kevin's giant apartment, and the the only exit was a pass code-controlled elevator that opened in the foyer. She didn't have the code. Kevin and Brigid refused to give it to her, and the housekeeper refused as well. Alexis didn't know what Kevin was paying the woman, but she never spoke to Alexis and barely made eye contact. Alexis didn't even know her name.

So after going through every cupboard, drawer, closet, and room in the entire place, Alexis' search was focused inward, in Kevin's room in particular. If she couldn't find means of escape, she could at least learn a little more about the man who held her captive. It wasn't really his room anymore, she'd taken it over, and his many gifts to her now filled most of the spaces in the room. But there were a few places she hadn't searched yet, like his bedside table. The bottom drawer was locked, but the one above it slid right open.

Alexis yanked open the drawer, and her eyes widened at the contents inside.

Bottles of lubricants and massage oils were lined up along one side, the labels describing a variety of effects: heat, added sensitivity, and a rainbow of flavors from strawberries to bubblegum. Alexis saw the lavender oil Kevin had used on her weeks before. A large box of condoms sat next to the lubricants, and lined up in a neat row beside the box was an assortment of items: a pair of padded handcuffs, strips of black silk in a variety of lengths, and a long feather.

Alexis picked up one of the strips of cloth. It was the same material Kevin had used when he'd brought her to his apartment. It had been soft on her wrists and tear-stained face, and she'd never considered why he had it or what its other uses could be. She pulled the material tight between both of her hands, her mind filling with possibilities.

She wasn't prepared for the wave of jealousy and inadequacy that washed over her. He'd clearly been entertaining other women while they'd been apart, and the thought made her sick and hurt. But what was worse was that her and Kevin's sex life had never been like that. His tastes had clearly evolved. Or maybe, a mean voice inside her head said, he was bored to begin with. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She hated this part of pregnancy the worst—the hormones that made everything much worse than it needed to be. She didn't need to feel so hurt about Kevin having a sex life; she'd had one too. And besides, she didn't want him anymore.

Her stomach twisted as she pressed her palms against her eyes, trying to push the tears back in. She didn't want him. She wasn't hurt. Maybe if she said it enough times it would be true.

She heard clipped footsteps coming down the hallway. Kevin. What a perfect time for him to decide to come home. She immediately shook her head. No, this wasn't home. She tossed the silk back into the drawer and closed it, taking deep breaths to control her raging emotions. He knocked on the door twice before opening it.

"Hey," he said with a smile.

She wanted to punch him.

Kevin took time to be with her every single day. If he was home during meal time he cooked for her, he showered her with gifts, and he always seemed so interested in whatever she was thinking and whatever she had to say. She tried hard to ignore him. Her forgiveness couldn't be bought. She wouldn't roll over and let him back in just because he was acting nice. But, again, she was bored and lonely, and more often than not she ended up talking with him because there was no one else. Perhaps he was in a similar boat, because no matter how bitchy she acted, he always came back.

He held a small bouquet of lilies in his hand, which he offered to her. "Are you alright?" he asked, his sharp gaze missing nothing.

She opened her mouth and quite purposely said his two least favorite words. "I'm fine." She took the flowers from his hand and carelessly tossed them on the bedside table.

"You look pissed off. What happened?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I told you I'm fine."

His gaze softened just a bit as he watched her, trying to figure out what had her panties in a bunch. She looked away and heard him sigh.

"How has your day been?"

He asked her that every time he talked with her, and the worst part was that he genuinely wanted to know. He wasn't just offering pleasantries to assuage his guilt. He genuinely seemed to care and wanted to hear what she thought and how she felt.

"Fine."

He cocked his head to the side. "I can see that. What did you do?"

Overate at breakfast because she was starving all the time. Puked up breakfast because her body hated her. Exercised a bit and then ate some more. Read the chapter about prenatal deformities and then had a quiet panic attack. Asked herself how long she could expect to keep this charade going. Oh, and then she found his deviant sex drawer. It had been a truly great day.

"Nothing of interest."

He took a chance and sat down next to her on the edge of the bed. "I'm interested."

His earnest expression and the genuine concern and curiosity in his eyes were her undoing.

"How long did you wait?" she snapped.

He frowned. "What?"

"How long did you wait before you started sleeping with other women?"

He looked like he could not be any more shocked by her question. His eyes traveled from her face to his bedside table, where two inches of black silk were peeking out from the drawer. "I see you've been busy."

"Apparently not as busy as you've been."

A smile tugged at his mouth. She wanted to kiss it and smack it. Stupid hormones. "Are you jealous?"

"No," she almost shrieked, standing up.

"Because if you want sex, all you have to do is ask."

Something hot turned over in her belly, and she shook her head. "How long did you wait?"

"Alexis, I thought you were dead."

"So that makes it okay to just jump into bed with whoever you want? Did you even wait a week?"

He stood up. "Do you have any idea how crazy you sound?"

"I'm sorry our sex life was so boring for you. I'm glad to see you've found happiness."

He looked like she'd hit him, and she saw his hands shaking. Good. He should be hurt. He should be angry. Then he'd know how she felt. Ever since he'd lost his temper and force fed her, he'd been so careful. So kind. So attentive. Alexis wanted to bring that dark side back out. When he was cold, it was easier to hate him. It was easier to withhold forgiveness. In that moment he'd held her down, Alexis had seen the depths of his desperation. She'd seen that he was just as broken as she was. It was comforting, in a way, to know where they both stood. And when he was kind and loving, everything was fuzzy.

In the ultimate betrayal, tears slipped down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away. Kevin crossed the distance between them in a step, wrapping his arms around her.

"Don't touch me." She tried to push him away, but he wouldn't move. His hands moved over her hair, soothing her in the way he knew she liked best. Damn him.

His head tipped down, and she felt his nose brush against her ear. "I waited over a year, and every time I was with another woman after that I imagined she was you. I said I never stopped loving you, Alexis, and I meant it."

"You don't like the same things anymore," she said quietly, letting the biggest insecurity of all slip right through her lips.

"I like you," he said simply. "That hasn't changed."

She didn't know how to react to that. He bared himself to her every day, sharing nothing but positive energy and love, regardless of whatever accusations she had to throw at him. She was angry still, betrayed still, but she knew that if he kept it up, the poisoned well would run dry. And then where would she be?

"That night I found you again," he began,"that was the best night I've had in three years." His fingers lightly tugged at the ends of her hair, and she looked up at him. His expression was nothing short of totally devoted.

That night was amazing for her too until he'd run away and shown back up as some sort of hardened criminal, until she'd found out that he'd left a gift behind.

She needed to tell him. He deserved to know. After everything that had happened with Sarah Grace, he deserved to know he had another child. Besides, it was only a matter of time before she wore the truth on her body. At eight weeks she was pretty much exactly the same on the outside, but that wouldn't last. She had another month, six weeks tops before he knew the truth. And he'd hate her for not telling him.

But she couldn't bring herself to do it. There was still too much about him that she didn't know, didn't trust.

"Have dinner with me?" he asked, still holding her close. He asked the question almost every day, and her answer had always been the same.

She pulled away. "No."

He nodded and sighed. He'd been expecting her answer, but he was still hopeful enough to ask in the first place.

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

An escape. An ultrasound. Another hug. A kiss. Something to keep her from throwing up all the times. The truth about where he'd been and who he was. The promise that he wouldn't leave again. Alexis' list of needs had never been so long, and she knew that—with the exception of her freedom—he'd give her whatever she asked for. Because he loved her. Because he was trying to take care of her and make amends. Because even though she didn't know him anymore, the man she'd fallen in love with was still in there, just beneath the surface.

"No," she said quietly. "I don't need anything from you."

* * *

Kevin rode the elevator up to his apartment, hands shaking, mind shattered, only just containing the heaving in his chest.

Nolan had another messy job tonight, which was enough to push Kevin to the brink, but on top of that, Sloane had asked about Alexis. He'd asked whether Kevin needed help house training her and promised to pay a visit to see her progress. Kevin had only just managed to contain the rage and panic at the man's dark promise.

It didn't change anything, of course, Kevin still had a plan to stick to. It was just unsettling to know that Alexis might not be as safe in her tower as he'd originally hoped. The thought of Sloane touching her, of having to put on that act again, of blending the two different worlds that he lived in, made him physically ill.

The doors slid open in front of him and Kevin stepped into his apartment. He walked through the foyer and stopped, seeing Alexis standing in the kitchen in her pajamas, eating straight from a jar of pickles. It was well past midnight. He hadn't expected her to be awake.

He tried to find some semblance of control. "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," she shrugged, watching him warily.

He was tired of that expression on her face. He wanted to see happiness and love instead of thinly veiled anger. He knew it was a stupid thing to want, because he didn't deserve to want anything from her, but he couldn't help feeling that way.

"Just get off work?" she asked.

Horror trickled down his spine. If she had any idea what he'd been doing... He ran a hand through his hair, declining to comment.

He'd been so careful with her over the past month. He'd been trying so hard to make her happy, to make her comfortable, to make her understand that he wasn't and never would be a threat to her. There were brief moments when he thought he might be getting through to her, but generally she was unmoved by his actions. She still wanted to leave; she still resented him for making her stay. Those moments when she let him in and they talked made the whole ordeal bearable. Their talks had been nothing of consequence, but they'd meant everything to him.

Normally, he understood and even accepted her hatred. He deserved it. He deserved every ounce of anger, every dirty look, every moment when she second-guessed him, but that night he needed more. He was a selfish bastard and he needed kindness. He needed a smile. A hug. Anything to calm his racing heart, anything to escape the soul-sick, bone-deep darkness.

"Kevin?"

His head snapped over to look at her. He was unraveling. He had to pull it together. When things got too bad, nights like this, he often found refuge in the arms of a random woman and would pretend that she was Alexis. Of course, he couldn't do that tonight. Not anymore. Because he had Alexis. She was right in front of him, staring at him with a mix of confusion and distrust.

"Tell me about them." His voice broke.

"Who?" She looked confused.

He almost couldn't make his mouth form their names. "Castle, Beckett… J-Javi."

Alexis' eyes widened. It was the first time he'd ever acknowledged their friends from before. He rarely let himself indulge in that line of thinking, but he couldn't help it. He was spiraling, and he needed something to anchor him.

The shock in her eyes twisted to anger, and Kevin couldn't brace himself for her words. "It would break their hearts to know what you've turned into."

The air was sucked out of the room, replaced with helpless despair, and Kevin forced himself to walk away. Alexis had tried several times in the past month to pick a fight with him, to hurt him, and he'd quickly learned it was best to leave, to disengage. He knew she would never see him any differently if he kept showing her his worst side.

He went out to the terrace and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket with shaking hands, trying to find some semblance of peace. The smooth nicotine did nothing to cool the hot emotion that was burning through his psyche.

 _It would break their hearts—_

He shook himself. No. He couldn't think about that. Something dark and frightening was clawing its way up his chest. He had to control it.

"You know, smoking can kill you."

He just couldn't escape. She'd seen his weakness, and she was determined to exploit it. "Leave me alone."

"Tell me where you've been."

As if that was even an option. She's already seen too much. She already hated him and distrusted him. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't share that side of his life with her. He could barely handle living it. How would she ever forgive him if she knew what he was capable of?

She wouldn't.

He stood up, attempting to move past her. She pushed him back with a surprising amount of strength.

"Running away again? You've gotten pretty good at that, haven't you?"

He wouldn't engage. He wouldn't break. He took a ragged breath, those fine threads of control so close to snapping.

"When did you turn into such a coward?"

He both felt and heard something shatter inside his mind, and before he knew it, he had Alexis pressed up against the brick, his fingers wrapped tight around her arms. He was almost panting with the emotional exertion burning through him. She didn't look afraid. On the contrary, she looked triumphant.

"Stop," he breathed.

"I'll stop when you let me leave."

He shook his head, a ragged laugh escaping him. "You know I won't do that."

"I hate you," she hissed.

The words cut through him. Sliced him to ribbons. Left him in pieces at her feet.

Kevin grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Hate me all you want, but you're not leaving. I had to survive losing you once. I'd sooner die than lose you again."

He let her go and walked away.

* * *

She was anger personified. Alexis slammed the bedroom door behind her and headed to the bathroom, grabbing a few new hairpins. She went straight for the locked drawer, moving the pins around with purpose in the lock until she heard it click. If Kevin wanted to be a secretive bastard, that was fine. She'd find out the answers herself.

Alexis wasn't expecting to see her own face staring up at her from within the drawer. Pictures had been stacked in a shoe box, and anger seeped out of her as she looked through them.

There were several pictures of Sarah Grace, from birth up until just before she'd passed away.

There were older pictures of a little girl that looked just like Brigid with another, older girl and a young Kevin. They were just children, standing with a man and a woman—his parents. It was a picture of his family.

There were more recent photos, from just a few years ago. Her dad and Kate at a Halloween party. Kate was pregnant with Johanna. Pictures of Javi and Kevin, and a picture of Javi and Lanie.

Alexis found the stack with her own face. Halloween, that weekend they'd spent in the Hamptons, New Year's Eve, the day they'd moved in together. She stared at a picture of the two of them. His arms were wrapped around her, and he was kissing the side of her face. They looked like they were in their own perfect world. She didn't recognize the happiness on her own face, or Kevin's for that matter.

She sat back against the side of the bed. This was what he'd been hiding. This was what no one else could see. The people he loved. The best side of himself. Most people put their good side on display, hiding darker things. Kevin did the opposite. He'd been hiding the the good parts of himself, locking them away in a shoe box.

No, that wasn't entirely true. He'd been showing her the good side of him every day for the last month. She was the one who refused to recognize it. Alexis pressed her hand against her abdomen. The life growing inside her was half Kevin, and she didn't know what that meant anymore. She didn't know who he was, but if she was being totally fair, she knew there was bad as well as good.

He'd lied to her.

He'd protected her.

He'd held her captive.

He'd made her life comfortable.

He'd frightened her.

He'd comforted her.

He was a different man.

The man she'd fallen in love with was still inside him—just hiding.

She hated him.

She loved him.

He loved her.

He'd never stopped loving her.

Alexis rested her head in her hands. Anger was slipping away faster than she could hold onto it, leaving her with cold, uncomfortable guilt. Something had happened. The look on his face when he'd come home… it was haunted. Broken. Like an exposed nerve. And she'd pounced on that vulnerability. He'd asked her a genuine question, and she'd turned it against him. She had thought hurting him would make her feel better, but it didn't really. It didn't make her feel any better. It just left her with guilt and sickness and something like regret.

He'd lied to her. He'd run away. He'd taken her freedom.

And he'd spent every day trying to make amends for that, never asking for anything in return.

With a sigh, Alexis pushed herself to her feet. It was time to eat crow.

She knocked on his bedroom door. No answer. She pushed open the door and quietly stepped into complete darkness.

"What do you want?"

She took a moment to let her eyes adjust. God, he sounded so, so tired. Had she done that? She thought she saw his form hunched over, sitting on the edge of the bed. She carefully approached him, not sure what to do or say. She wasn't sure exactly why she'd come in. To apologize? To comfort him? To have a much needed talk? They were all true and false at the same time.

"Alexis," he began. He sounded so broken. So helpless. So lost. "Please." Her mind filled in the blanks.

Please leave him alone.

Please don't hurt him again.

Please just let him have a moment of peace and quiet.

She perched herself on the edge of the bed, leaving plenty of distance between them. "My little sister was born on Valentine's Day."

He didn't respond, but he didn't ask her to leave either, so she continued. "Her name is Johanna. She looks just like Kate, this tiny, brown-eyed doppelganger, but she's all dad. She's always getting into things. She's got this adorable attitude, and she's already learning to write a little bit. She sits on the floor in dad's office while he's working, writing her own stories. She just turned three."

She inched a little closer to him, watching as his posture began to slowly relax.

"Kate's an amazing mother. She also made captain, so she's around a bit more often. Dad still writes, and now that Johanna's started preschool he's gotten his PI license to keep him busy. They're really happy."

His breathing began to even out. And Alexis moved closer. They were only inches apart. "Javi and Lanie have a little boy. His name is Aaron. He's adorable. They're getting married soon."

She conveniently left out all the damage his absence had left behind. He didn't need to hear that. Not right now.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Alexis reached out for him. His face was wet under her fingertips.

Every muscle in his body tensed at her touch.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'm sorry, Kevin."

Alexis watched her words wash over him, and she hoped he understood her. She was apologizing for hurting him. For being ungrateful. For throwing the people he clearly still loved in his face. For not seeing the good in him that he'd quietly been showing her all along. For the pain she didn't understand but knew he carried. For the fact that he'd had to bear that burden alone.

It wasn't forgiveness. It wasn't acceptance. It was acknowledging the good and bad in both of them, and it the best she could give him.

Slowly, his fingers twined in her hair, and the tip of his nose glided over her cheek. His lips brushed against the corner of her mouth in the lightest, softest of kisses. Instantly, a fire was lit in her belly, spreading outward over her skin. She turned her head just a bit, so his lips hovered over hers, never making contact.

He was like stone. Unmoving, totally rigid until her touch, refusing to be the one to push them over the the fine edge they stood on. Without quite understanding why, Alexis dragged her thumb over his cheekbone, angling her head just the slightest bit, and closed the distance between them.

The instant his mouth was on hers, the fire flared to an inferno. Her tongue traced his lips, begging for entrance, and he softly moaned as he let her in. He tasted like whiskey, cigarettes, and something distinctly Kevin. The flavor was an intoxicating cocktail of old and new. It wasn't her favorite, but it wasn't altogether unpleasant.

The kiss was slow and sensual, so different from their last kiss. There was no hurried gnashing of teeth, ripping emotional Band-aids and seeking a long-awaited release. It was a gentle, thorough re-introduction. A simmering embrace that left her breathless for more.

Her hands slid down his bare chest, dragging her fingernails as she went, taking great satisfaction in the groan that rumbled through his chest. He pulled her into his lap and gently lifted the camisole over her head. She raised her arms to help his plight, moaning at the sensation of her bare skin against his. Kevin's thumb traced one nipple as he gently cupped her breast, and she couldn't hold back her pleasure-pained cry. Pregnancy was changing her body already, and her tender breasts couldn't take much teasing.

When his mouth closed over her other nipple, she arched her back, bucking her hips as her voice jumped up a few octaves. She pushed him back, panting. It was too much. Desire ached between her legs, but Kevin's shaking limbs and her own racing heart told the truth. They were both too raw, too sensitive, too exposed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

With a deep breath, she pushed him onto his back and lowered herself next to him, letting his body curl around hers as he rested his face in the crook of her neck.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "Please don't leave."

Part of her wanted to run. She'd already given too much to him. She needed to keep her distance if she wanted her mind and heart to have any chance of survival.

Another part, a part that ran as deep as the marrow in her bones, told her to stay. It wasn't logical, and she couldn't justify it. But she listened to it, and she snuggled closer to him as the exhaustion of the night, of their situation, of growing another life inside her own body took over.

"I'll stay."

* * *

Author's Note: Phew... Now I'm exhausted.

I hope you all enjoyed the latest installment. A million thanks to everyone who has reviewed! Please keep it up!

Next time: Alexis finds it harder and harder to hide the truth.


	9. Chapter Nine

Heart of Stone

By:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Nine

"I'm not giving up. I'm just giving in." -Florence + the Machine, "Never Let Me Go"

* * *

Once again, Alexis was wearing a blindfold.

It was eleven at night, Brigid was driving her to an ultrasound appointment, and she was wearing a blindfold. It had taken some planning: Brigid had to find a doctor who was willing to be paid under the table and relinquish any medical documentation. They also had to find a night when they knew Kevin wouldn't be home, which was easier said than done. As it was, Alexis expected him to jump out from a dark corner any moment and demand to know what was going on.

The car shut off and Brigid helped Alexis out of the vehicle. The air around her was pleasantly warm and smelled like a parking garage. May was half over, and at eleven weeks, Alexis' sense of smell was getting stronger and stronger. If Alexis had been in a position to work, she would have loved to see if her nose could be used as a diagnostic tool.

"Watch your step," Brigid said quietly as she guided Alexis up a flight of stairs. Conditioned air soon wrapped around them, and Alexis allowed herself to be led down a labyrinthine hallway.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She was going to see her baby. After almost two months of anxiously waiting, she was going to see undeniable proof that there was a life inside her. Alexis had never been so scared or excited in her entire life. What if something had gone wrong? What if the baby was sick somehow? She took a deep breath to calm herself. For better or worse, she'd know soon enough.

Finally Brigid allowed Alexis to take the blindfold off. They were in a run-of-the-mill OB exam room. The soft-toned walls were covered with pregnancy timelines and drawings of fetal development.

There was a knock at the door, and a blonde man in a lab coat walked in. He offered Alexis his hand. "You must be the patient." He looked her up and down, but didn't offer his name.

"That's right."

"Are you ready to see your baby?"

She gulped, then nodded. "Yes."

In no time at all, Alexis was up on the exam table, her heart in her chest as the doctor smeared lubricant on her skin and pressed the ultrasound transducer against her abdomen. There was a moment of quiet terror when silence answered back, and then, like the flaps of an underwater butterfly, she heard it. Her baby's heartbeat. The world narrowed to the steady rhythm of that sound, and Alexis fought back tears as it left an imprint inside her heart.

"And there it is," the doctor said, pointing to a shape on the screen. A head, a body, tiny feet and arms. It was all there. So small, so fragile, but it was there.

Tears slipped down her face, and she felt Brigid squeeze her hand. "That's your baby," she whispered in awe.

A stupid smile spread over Alexis' face as she looked at the image on the screen. Exquisite joy pressed in on her chest.

She wished Kevin was here.

The thought took her by surprise, but it was true. She wished he was here with her to share the happy moment. She could imagine him holding her hand, fighting tears of his own. This would mean the world to him.

Of course, that would require them to be an actual couple. That would require him to know about the baby. That would require everything to not be half as screwed up as it actually was.

Before she was ready, the doctor turned the ultrasound machine off and wrote Brigid a list of tests that needed to be done.

"Is the baby okay?" Alexis asked.

"As far as I can tell, everything looks totally normal."

Relief washed through her, almost knocking her off her feet. After that, Brigid handed him an envelope, and the blindfold went back on. A few minutes later, Alexis was back in the car, the folded ultrasound image in her hands.

"I'll come by to get those tests set up," Brigid said on the way back.

"Okay."

After a beat, the blonde added, "Kevin seems happier these days."

He probably was happier. The truth was, they were both happier—and that truth confused Alexis to no end—but that was sure to change once Kevin knew the magnitude of the secret she'd been keeping from him.

"Alexis."

"What?"

"When do you plan on telling him? Your time is running out."

Alexis had no response. She felt like her window had already passed. She should have told him weeks ago, when her symptoms had started manifesting. As it was, he probably had enough evidence to piece it together and she was already putting on weight. She'd gained almost ten pounds and she knew there was more to come.

"I don't know."

"I know that this makes things seem real and scary, but you need to remember that you're safest with Kevin. Both are you are safest with Kevin."

Again, Alexis refrained from commenting. She'd heard that phrase countless times in her two-month captivity. Would Kevin be so determined to protect her when he knew what she'd done?

Brigid escorted her back up to the apartment, reminding Alexis that she'd get those tests set up, and then left the girl alone. Alexis changed back into her pajamas and lay in bed, staring at the ultrasound image. She couldn't reconcile the pure love and fierce protectiveness she'd felt upon seeing her baby, hearing its heartbeat. She pressed her fingertips against her abdomen, whispering, "I can't wait to meet you."

Alexis heard footsteps coming down the hallway and stuffed the photo inside her pillowcase.

Kevin poked his head in. "You're quite the night owl these days."

He had no idea. "I could say the same to you."

He gave her a tight smile and sat next to her on the bed. "How was your evening? I'm sorry I wasn't around for dinner."

Things had gotten better between her and Kevin. They hadn't kissed or gotten physical since that night, and they still slept in different beds, but allowing herself to get to know Kevin again had created a crack in Alexis' resolve to hate him. Now, it seemed that wall was slowly crumbling.

The words were on the tip of her tongue: "I saw our baby tonight." But she couldn't bring herself to say them.

"It's alright. Brigid came over for a while and kept me company."

"She's a good sister," he said, holding her hand. "I missed you tonight."

Heat spread across her cheekbones. Her feelings for him, confusing and broken as they were, had started to grow. Alexis didn't know how much was her hormones, how much was her loneliness, and how much of it was real. That scared her the most. She didn't want to act on feelings that weren't real. She didn't want to leap only to fall flat on her face. That was how she'd ended up pregnant in the first place.

Kevin, of course, was still a mystery. She still didn't know where he went when he left the apartment, and only once more had he come back as broken as he had the night they'd fought. She'd been watching a movie in bed, eating vanilla ice cream and pickles, and without any preamble, he'd crawled into bed next to her, wrapped his arms around her and laid his head in her lap. He hadn't moved from his spot until long after the credits had appeared on the screen. She asked him to tell her what had happened, but of course he refused. She'd fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around her, and when she'd woken up he was gone.

"Did you plan on staying up for a while? I've got a surprise for you."

Goosebumps raised on her skin, and desire coiled in her stomach. She'd thought being emotional was a bad side-effect of pregnancy, but the latest symptom was making them all seem like a cake walk. Like a hormone-crippled teenage boy, Alexis couldn't stop thinking about or wanting sex. Sex with Kevin specifically. Ever since she'd kissed him that night, it was like the floodgates had opened. It was an almost constant desire, and it only worsened every single time Kevin touched her. Alexis was only eleven weeks in, and pregnancy had already reduced her from an intelligent, logical person to some kind of animal.

"Depends on the surprise," she said with a sultry smile.

His eyebrows raised at her tone, but he didn't engage. "I'll be right back."

As soon as he'd walked out the bedroom door, Alexis tried to reason with herself. Just because they were having a baby didn't mean that she could just jump into bed with him, right? And it didn't mean that getting emotionally attached—well, any more emotionally attached—was a smart idea.

She tried to ignore the voice inside her mind that reminded her Kevin loved her unconditionally. He cared about her and took care of her and did everything he could to protect her and make her life comfortable and happy. That voice wasn't helpful. That voice just made all of her traitorous feelings seem okay. She didn't know anything about him anymore, how could she let herself fall for someone who was a complete mystery?

Kevin returned, brandishing a wrapped box. "Open it."

Alexis took it and started to tug at the wrapping paper.

"I've been thinking about what you said about losing your touch, and I thought this might help you stay in practice."

That was surprising. When she'd been particularly bored one day, she'd complained to Kevin that she was going to forget all of her ME training. Apparently he'd been listening. She tore the wrapping paper off and her eyes landed on a familiar red logo. "No way." He'd gotten her Operation.

He grinned. "Wanna play doctor, Doctor?"

Instantly her mind filled with images, and blood rushed to her face. "Sure."

As it turned out, she was terrible at Operation. Desire had made her hands shake, and Kevin's proximity didn't help. The game board was braced on her lap, and every move had him leaning over her. Every time he so much as looked at her, every time their hands brushed or his leg bumped against hers, she had to fight the urge to take him right there on his bed.

With a triumphant smile, he pulled out the last piece: a small, plastic butterfly inside their patient's stomach. The irony just about killed her.

"Beginner's luck," he said with a smile. "Want to play again?"

Alexis could think of a million other things she'd like to do to Kevin specifically, and none of them involved fishing plastic pieces out of a box. Her hands itched to toss the game away and sink into his dark hair as she kissed him.

"Alexis?"

She shook herself. "I'm kind of tired. I think I'm ready to go to sleep."

"Oh. Okay." He packed up the game box and pressed a gentle kiss against her cheek. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," she said quietly, turning away from him and taking slow, deep breaths to control her racing heart. Kevin turned the lights off on his way out, and Alexis was left alone in the darkness.

She shouldn't want him—in any capacity. She shouldn't want to kiss him, she shouldn't want to be around him, she shouldn't blush when he looked at her and her heart shouldn't skip a beat when he smiled.

Parts of him were made up of the Kevin she knew before, but there were other pieces she knew nothing about—pieces that scared her. She wasn't afraid of him; she knew he'd never hurt her. But she knew those dark, hidden pieces had the power to change her life. They already had. Those pieces were the reason she was hidden away in his apartment, sneaking out at night to get prenatal care. They had uprooted her entire life.

She reached into her pillowcase, and traced her fingertip over the image. She couldn't see it in the darkness, but she knew it was there. She'd memorized her baby's shape among the gray and black canvas.

A month earlier, if she'd been given the chance to walk out of Kevin's apartment and never look back, she might have taken it. Now… she didn't know what she'd do. That unknown variable inside her heart, inside her mind, scared her. What happened to her anger? What happened to her determination to take her life back? How could she just give up?

She touched her abdomen. Kevin had loved her through years of distance and grief. And despite her anger, despite the almost overwhelming feeling of betrayal, she'd loved him too. That was why she'd come back to New York in the first place: to find the man she loved.

A new question appeared in her mind.

Despite everything that was wrong with the situation in front of her, they'd been given another chance.

Could she forgive herself for letting it pass her by?

* * *

Alexis was acting really strange.

Things had been better in the past month. She generally seemed happier, both with her life and with him, but lately she'd been running hot and cold. She'd smile at him, go out of her way to be close to him, and just as quickly she'd shut down. He didn't know what to make of it. He knew it would be a tough adjustment for her, being cooped up here, but something wasn't adding up.

Kevin lay in bed, trying to figure out what was going on with her, when he heard his bedroom door slide open. In the darkness, he thought he could make out a familiar form moving toward him.

"Alexis?"

The bed dipped next to him, and a familiar scent enveloped his senses. It was her. "What's the matter?"

He felt her weight shift forward, her hands resting on his chest, and then her mouth covered his.

Surprise shot through him. He tried to push her back, but was surprised to find his palms meeting hot, bare skin. She wasn't wearing anything. Jesus...

He firmly pushed her back by her shoulders. "Alexis?"

"You said I just had to ask," she replied. Her voice was low and breathy. "I'm asking." Her mouth pressed against his again, and her fingertips brushed over his stomach, heading southward.

Kevin was at a loss. On one hand, this didn't feel quite right. On another, his heart and body both leapt at the chance to be with her in any capacity.

Her fingers wrapped around him, and he jerked his hips forward with a moan. Nimble fingers tugged his underwear down with thoughtless efficiency, and Kevin almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her warm mouth envelope him.

He moaned her name, quickly losing all semblance of rational thought as her mouth took him to new heights. His fingers sank into her soft hair, but he didn't push her. She had never done this to him before, and he couldn't help but wonder where she'd learned those moves. Then she did something with her tongue that had stars bursting behind his eyes, and every thought was erased from his mind.

He pulled her up, her lips breaking away from him with an audible pop. His mouth devoured hers, and he got the faintest hint of himself on her tongue. She straddled him, rolling her hips over him, dragging her wet heat over him again and again. She was going to kill him.

"Alexis," he mumbled against her mouth. "Condom."

"Don't worry about it."

He tried to protest, but then she sank into his hard length, inch by inch taking him into her heat. She was on fire, the warmth of her skin almost burning him.

She moaned as he filled her, her body already clenching tight around him. Alexis took a moment to adjust to him, almost panting with desire. And then with a blinding roll of her hips, she took his breath away.

Kevin called out her name in broken syllables as she rode him, the room filling with the sounds of their pleasure. His hands found her breasts, gently kneading them in time with her rhythm, and the girl in his arms turned feral.

She bucked her hips, taking him deeper each time, mewling at the sensation of his hands and their joined bodies. She writhed on top of him arrhythmically, the pleasure building in her body making her lose control. His hands slid up her waist, supporting her back and holding her in place. His mouth found her nipple, gently flicking his tongue over it as he suckled, and he felt her splinter then break completely. She screamed his name as her muscles clamped down on him, scorching him where they were connected.

His eyes rolled back into his head. "Fuuuuuuuuuck." He was barely hanging on, barely keeping himself from flying right off the edge into oblivion.

Alexis collapsed onto his chest with trembling limbs, sweat pouring down her overheated body.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much."

She made an affirmative noise in her throat, nuzzling his neck. His cock twitched inside her, reminding him that he still hadn't found release. She moaned at the sensation.

Regretfully, Kevin slid out of her, moving aside to let her collapse face-first into the cool bedsheets. She almost protested their broken connection.

"It's alright, sweetheart." He kissed the crown of her head. "I'm not done with you yet."

His hands slid down her back, coaxing her hips up. His lips traveled from the back of her neck down to her tailbone. He slid two fingers into her core and a muffled moan escaped her. She immediately rocked her hips against his fingers, seeking another high. He rubbed circles over her center with his thumb until her moans reached an octave that made her voice break as she climaxed.

He carefully positioned himself behind her, entering her molten core as shudders rocked through her body. His fingers wrapped around her hips, and another cry fell on his ears as he began to thrust into her with shallow strokes. Her body had never been so responsive, and he reveled in the moans and gasps that tore through her lips, the way her muscles clenched around him, the all-consuming heat that radiated into his soul.

He tilted her hips up, almost lifting her legs off the bed as he delved deeper and harder into her warmth. She muffled her screams against the bedsheets, helpless to do anything but accept the pleasure slamming into her.

"Kevin!"

Her body locked onto his like a hot, velvet vice and he saw stars. His rhythm turned frenzied, thrusting relentlessly as wave after wave of light washed over him, the melody of Alexis' climax echoing dimly in his ears.

They lay together in a sweaty, boneless heap, gasping for breath, reeling from what they had just felt. After an eon spent putting his shattered body back together, Kevin rolled onto his back and gathered Alexis in his arms. Hair tangled, body flushed, eyes glazed with a thin sheen of sweat covering her skin, she looked positively wild. His heart stuttered.

"I love you."

With lazy movements, she pulled his face down to meet hers, and he kissed her back greedily. She was his alone, and he'd been dreaming of being with her again for years. He didn't know what sequence of events had led her to his bed that night, but he did know one thing: Now that he had her again, he was never letting her go.

* * *

There wasn't enough coffee in the world for the complete exhaustion that had taken over his body. It was almost three in the afternoon, and Kevin had only just managed to stumble to the kitchen.

Alexis was trying to kill him. He was sure of it. She had been absolutely insatiable in her need for him the night before, and with the exception of a handful of minutes spent dozing between rounds, they'd made love until their energy was completely spent. He wasn't sure at what point they'd given in, but he did remember waking up on top of her, his hand still cupping her breast, as the morning light had shone through the open curtains. He'd forced himself to shut out the offensive light and had curled around Alexis for a few more hours of sleep.

She was still out cold. Thank God. His body and mind needed time to recover. He felt like he'd just run a marathon—all aching muscles and stiff joints. He'd never been more satisfied or more confused.

Kevin never would have predicted the way she threw herself at him. Yes, things had been getting better, but he'd never allowed himself to hope that she'd want him that way. It was a gift, and even though she'd never said those three little words back to him, he had reason to hope. She couldn't say it yet, and that was okay. He loved her enough for the both of them.

He opened the fridge, searching through it for some milk, and his attention landed on an almost empty jar of pickles. He'd have to ask the housekeeper to get some more. They were Alexis' favorite food these days; he'd seen her eating them constantly. Early in the morning, late at night. Kevin had never much cared for them. In fact, the only other time he'd kept them in the house was when Jenny was—

Kevin jolted up, smacking the back of his head on the inside of the fridge. He backed up and straightened, rubbing his head.

His mind ran through a mental checklist: vomiting, mood swings, breast tenderness, increased arousal, craving strange foods.

As soon as the word appeared in his mind, Kevin tried to find a logical explanation. Maybe she really did have food poisoning that one time. Maybe her emotions were so out of whack because she was trapped with him. Maybe she just really, really liked pickles.

They hadn't used a condom.

Not the night before, and not the night that had started it all. Something twisted in his chest, remembering what Alexis had said to him the night before.

 _Don't worry about it._

She was p—

A shrill ringtone broke through his thoughts, and Kevin answered without thinking twice. "What?"

Sloane's voice slid through the phone. "Cancel your plans for tonight. It's time for a sit down, and boss volunteered you to host." Kevin's heart tripped into double time as the voice turned sinister.

"I can't wait to see your new pet."

* * *

Author's Note: Another update in less than a week! I really hope you guys liked it.

Please, please, please review!

Next time: Shit hits the fan.


	10. Chapter Ten

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Ten

"It's a small crime, and I've got no excuse." - Damien Rice, "9 Crimes"

* * *

Alexis was pregnant.

Kevin leaned hard against the counter, letting his head hang forward. His fingers wrapped around the marble in a white-knuckle grip as those three words swam in his head on a loop.

Alexis was pregnant. And she hadn't told him.

His mind went back to the night he'd found her almost three months before, doing the math in his head. She wasn't very far along, maybe ten or eleven weeks.

And she hadn't told him.

She obviously knew. She'd made that abundantly clear when she'd told him not to worry about birth control. Suddenly every moment of the last two months made a terrible sort of sense: her moodswings, the way she'd gone from starving herself to health crazed overnight. Even the way she'd slowly been warming up to him made perfect sense in the context. All of the hope and love he'd allowed himself to feel about their progress suddenly rang hollow. Clearly she didn't care for him as much as he'd hoped. If she actually gave a damn about him, she would have told him.

His mind began unpicking every encounter they'd had in her two months with him. How could he have been so blind? The signs were right in front of his face. Yes, she'd lied a few times, but if he'd actually paid attention instead of obsessing over how to see her smile again, he would have known weeks before. He would have realized she was lying. The thought of her knowing about the pregnancy and then lying about it, keeping his own child a secret from him, made it difficult to breathe. The wind was knocked clean out of him.

How could she do that? Didn't she know that he'd protect her—he'd protect both of them—and it was in her best interest to tell him? Didn't she know what this would mean to him? The thought of another child, another tiny human that was half his, existing in the world, almost knocked him to his knees. Joy and terror fused, slamming into his heart and cracking it wide open.

It was a possibility he hadn't allowed himself to hope for since he'd buried Sarah Grace, and as miraculous a thing as it would be for him to have another child, to have a second chance at fatherhood, a second chance at being happy, the hope and joy implicit in that miracle were too bright. Too sharp. It cut deeper than anything else had because he knew he didn't deserve it. He'd already had his chance to be happy, and he'd wasted it. This wasn't a miracle; it couldn't be. It was his recompense. Something would go wrong. Something would happen to the baby. To Alexis. To Kevin himself. This wouldn't end in happily ever after. That simply wasn't an option for him.

He pulled in a shuddering breath. Alexis had been so sick during those first few weeks. Her body had been put through hell, and judging by what he'd observed that night in her apartment—purple stains under her eyes, too-thin limbs, and nothing but coffee, liquor, and Saltines in her cupboards—she hadn't been healthy to begin with. Jesus, what if something was wrong with the baby? He slid down to the tile floor as a vice wrapped around his chest.

His phone pinged. A message from Sloane.

"Expect us at 6."

He had only a couple hours before Sloane and a handful of Nolan's associates would show up at his door, expecting food, drink, and for Kevin to be the perfect host. To be cold as stone, heartless, meticulous, not a hair out of place—just as he'd always been around them. He didn't know how to do that, not after the bomb that had been dropped on him.

Alexis was still asleep. He'd thought they were making love the night before, but obviously she was just scratching an itch. He'd told her he loved her. Over and over again he'd told her loved her, and there had been no response. She had used him, lead him on, all while keeping the existence of his own child from him.

He took a deep breath and searched for some semblance of inner calm—some dark, hidden place in which he could shove all of his fear, his disappointment, his pain. He was left with anger because there was no place inside him big enough to fit all those twisted, sick feelings, but that was okay. Anger had kept him alive for the last three years, and unlike fear or pain or even hope, it didn't explode or burn or demand to be fed. Anger froze. It wrapped him in so many layers of cold nothingness that he was untouchable.

Kevin stood up and brushed himself off, his mind running through the necessary preparations. He'd need to call a cleaning service, a caterer with a small wait staff, and, of course, there was Alexis. Sloane would demand to see her; there was no way around it. Images appeared unbidden in his mind: her legs wrapped around him, her mouth pressed against his, her long hair twisting across the pillow, the flush across her cheekbones as her sated body curled against his in exhaustion.

He shook his head and picked up his phone, calling his sister. "I've got a job for you."

Almost an hour later, Kevin walked into his temporary bedroom and opened the curtains. Alexis was curled up on her side right where he'd left her. The dark comforter contrasted her fair skin, and her tangled hair was everywhere. After calling Brigid, showering, and making those last-minute arrangements, he was almost ready to put on the act. Brigid was on her way with the necessary supplies, his apartment was being shined to a glow, and food was being prepared at that very moment. It was amazing the things money could buy.

He sat on the edge of the bed, unable to stop himself from brushing an errant curl away from Alexis' face. He'd let her sleep for as long as possible. It was easier that way. There was less emotional mess: less time for her to panic, less time for him to demand answers that she clearly didn't want to give. Her arm was folded over her still-flat stomach, cushioned by the heavy comforter. He knew that wouldn't be the case for long. If he was correct about her progress, she was close to showing. He'd read all the baby books he could get his hands on when Jenny had gotten pregnant, and his mind had filed the content away with all the other seemingly useless information. He knew what her body was going through, and he knew the challenges that lay ahead. What he didn't know was why she hadn't told him.

Alexis had to have known that she couldn't keep it a secret for much longer. What had her plan been in this scenario? It wasn't as if she could just run away. He'd thought they were making progress, but clearly he was wrong. She still hated him, still viewed him as a threat. That was fine. It was a hell of a lot easier to stay cold if she hated him.

He gently shook her. "Alexis. You need to wake up."

With heavy eyelids and even heavier limbs, she slowly rolled onto her back and looked up at him. "Hi," she said with a sleepy, shy smile.

Before he'd learned about her deception, his world would have come to a shuddering halt at the look on her face. It would have told him to cancel the dinner and crawl back in bed with her. Now, his heart was quiet—just as it should be. "It's time to get up. We've got plans tonight."

Her large eyes immediately widened, and like someone who'd spent years with detectives, she observed the man in front of her. Her eyes passed over his blank expression, locking briefly on his pressed pants and crisp button-up. She cocked her head to the side, hearing the night's staff moving around the apartment. She sat up, holding the comforter against her chest. "Plans?"

"Brigid is on her way to help you get ready. She'll be here any minute."

"I don't understand."

He maintained eye contact, speaking slowly so he wouldn't have to repeat himself. "I'm hosting a dinner party here for some of my… associates."

"Associates?"

"Yes."

"Will he be here?"

There was no need to ask who she was referring to. "Yes. He wants to see you."

She jerked back, instinctively wrapping an arm around her middle. She probably wasn't even aware of the slip. Kevin caught her by her wrist before she could disappear across the bed. He didn't have time play cat and mouse.

"Can't I stay in here?" she asked, fear seeping into her voice.

He shook his head. "We both have roles to play tonight."

Panic seized her, and before she could spiral into hysteria, he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around her. It was more of an attempt to restrain than to comfort.

"Please don't make me do this," she begged, her chest heaving as she tried to wrench herself out of his grip. "I can't do it. I can't be in the same room as him. Not after—"

His mind filled in the blanks. Not after Sloane had shot, drugged, abducted, and sold her. Not after he'd nearly killed her. "You don't have a choice."

"Kevin, I can't—"

His hands slipped down her shoulders, and he forced her to look at him, purposely keeping her at arm's length. "I've kept you alive this long. I don't intend to break that streak."

She shook her head, tears slipping down her face. Her arms wrapped protectively around her middle. "You don't understand—"

The almost-confession, the near acknowledgement of her betrayal, threatened to melt his composure. He gripped her a little tighter. "I do understand, and I won't let anything happen to you—to either of you." He let go and stood up.

"Please don't leave," she begged, reaching for his hand. "Please—I'm not ready. Please, Kevin."

He slid his hands into his pockets. "Get in the shower. Brigid will be here soon." He walked out of the bedroom, ignoring her desperate pleas, letting the door shut behind him with a click. He ran a shaking hand through his hair and took a deep breath.

The night couldn't end fast enough.

* * *

"You sure clean up nice."

Alexis glanced up at Brigid, who had been carefully applying Alexis' eyeliner. She'd spent several long minutes in disabling terror before Kevin's sister had knocked on the bedroom door with a bathrobe hanging over her arm and had gently guided Alexis to the shower. Since then, Alexis had been a good little doll. She'd showered and brushed her teeth and had left everything else in Brigid's capable hands, simply letting it happen. In the wake of the terrifying encounter that had been planned for her, Alexis didn't have the energy to fight. She was too afraid. And just thinking about what lay ahead made her sick to her stomach. So she focused on something else.

 _I won't let anything happen to you—to either of you._

Kevin knew. He knew she was pregnant. He'd managed to piece together the evidence in front of him and he'd figured it out before she'd even had a chance to tell him. No, that wasn't right. She'd had a million chances to tell him. She'd just acted like a coward instead. His eyes had been so cold, his voice so impassive. There had been no comfort in his touch. He was angry with her. No, he was _furious._

"He knows," Alexis said quietly.

Brigid's eyes locked on hers, and she then returned to her task. "Yes, he does."

"He talked you about it?"

"Yelled, actually. You were in the shower."

"How bad was it?"

Brigid shrugged as she applied eyeshadow. "I wasn't going to say anything, but after tonight you probably won't see me for a while."

"What?" Surely Kevin wouldn't do that. Brigid was, as far as Alexis could tell, his only confidante. She was Alexis' only friend in this whole mess. Was he really going to take away her only friend?

"Sometimes when you think you're doing what's best, you end up hurting the people you're trying to help. It's a lesson I still need to learn... and Kevin does too," Brigid sighed.

"He's furious," Alexis whispered, her heart sinking.

"At me, yes. At you… I'm not sure."

"I told you to keep it a secret."

"Yes, but you forget that he's madly in love with you. Plus the secret was that you're the mother of his unborn chid. I think he's more hurt and worried than angry."

Alexis didn't have a response to that. She would have preferred his anger. When had the tables turned so much that she cared if she hurt him? It was easy to lie to herself and say that she'd sought him out the night before to scratch an itch, but that wasn't quite right. If she had, she wouldn't have stayed. She wouldn't have asked for more. And every time he told her he loved her, she wouldn't have been on the verge of saying those words back.

She blinked back tears. The whole thing was such a goddamn mess. After everything he'd done, she still cared for him and she was pregnant with his child and in the middle of putting on a charade for his "associates." When would this madness end? When it was just her and Kevin, Alexis could pretend that everything was okay. She could genuinely see herself being happy with him and falling for him. And those feelings were manifesting themselves whether she was ready for them or not.

Of course, now that the truth was out, now that he knew the magnitude of the secret she'd kept from him, he was pulling away. She'd broken his trust, just like he'd done to her. And despite what Brigid had said, Alexis was certain that he didn't have any love for her. Not anymore.

"No tears," Brigid scolded gently. "You'll ruin all my hard work."

"Who are these people he's entertaining?" Alexis asked suddenly. She needed a different train of thought. This one was too painful, too frightening. Suddenly, it was much easier to face down a room full of vicious, deviant men than to consider an immediate future in which Kevin didn't care about her.

"Just people he works with. It's like their quarterly meeting. They eat and drink too much and talk shop. All of them are dirtbags except Kevin."

"Why is he connected to these people, Brigid? I mean, he was a cop. He was a good man. What the hell is he doing here?"

For a moment, Alexis thought the blonde might give her the answers she was desperately seeking. And then Brigid shook her head. "Alexis, he still is a good man. And you know that as well as I do. He loves you. He was an empty shell of a person while you were gone, and now that you're back… Well, he's not going to let you slip away again—especially now that he knows about the baby. He's going to protect you and move worlds for you to be happy. You just have to trust him and give him time. Can you do that?"

"It's not like I have a choice."

"You have more choices than you think. You always have."

Alexis stared down at her ruby-painted fingernails. There was a ring of truth in Brigid's words, and she hated it. Maybe she didn't have the choice to leave, but everything else had been her choice. She'd chosen to sleep with Kevin that night three months ago. She'd chosen to keep the baby a secret. She'd chosen to let Kevin back into her life. She'd chosen to seek his company the night before. His decisions had resulted in her being stuck in his apartment, but her decisions had led them the rest of the way.

Brigid squeezed her hand. "Let's get you into your dress, Cinderella."

A few minutes later, Alexis stood in front of the mirror, eyeing Brigid's handiwork. She looked... sexy. Powerful—like some kind of dark queen. Her long hair had been pulled into a messy chignon with a few tendrils escaping here and there. Her eyes were cloaked in smoky, dramatic makeup and several coats of mascara. Her blue irises shone out from the dark hues like a beacon. Her mouth had been shaped into a blood-red pout, and her skin had taken on an alabaster glow, either from pregnancy or some kind of makeup magic. The dress was a soft gold material with crystal embroidery that hugged every curve. The halter top and long slit up the side showed a lot more skin than Alexis was comfortable with, but probably not as much as those hateful men were hoping for. At least the high neckline covered her scar.

"And the final touch," Brigid said, clasping a gold filigree, diamond-studded choker to her neck. "What do you think?"

Alexis didn't recognize herself. She gently touched the necklace, which had to be worth a fortune. "It's the nicest collar I've ever seen."

"Well, I think you look like a knockout. Kevin won't know what hit him."

Despite their situation, a smile tugged at the corner of Alexis' mouth. "Don't stay away too long."

"Afraid you'll miss me?" Brigid teased.

"Yes. I'm afraid I will." Alexis bit her lip. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"You're still with Liam?"

The blonde looked a little wary, but she nodded. "Yes."

"Has he said anything about my family? About... What they've been doing while I've been gone?"

Brigid seemed a little relieved that she wouldn't have to endure another lecture, and Alexis watched closely as the blonde weighed her answer. "Why do you want to know?"

Alexis shrugged helplessly. "I've been gone for two months with no contact. I'm worried about them. I want to know if they're okay."

"Well, I don't know much; I don't know how they're coping. But I do know they haven't stopped looking for you."

That all-too-familiar claustrophobia weighed heavy on her shoulders. God, she missed them so much. How could she have taken them for granted for so long? Before moving back to New York, she'd seen them twice in two and a half years. She would go months without talking to them. Now, after two months away, all she wanted was to go home.

"Remember what I said about Kevin. Everything will be okay. You just need to trust him and give him time. You shouldn't do anything rash. Okay?"

There was nothing but panic in the back of her mind. She'd already given Kevin two months. How much longer would she have to wait? Her life had come to a standstill, but the world outside was still moving. The hospital wouldn't hold her position forever. Sooner or later, her apartment would be packed up and leased to someone else. They were six months away—at most—from bringing an infant into the world. How many pieces of her life would she have to give up before this was over? And when everything was said and done, what would she have left?

"Alexis."

"What?"

"Okay?" Brigid pressed. She clearly needed some kind of confirmation that the redhead wouldn't do something stupid to get back to her family, but she didn't need to worry. It killed Alexis to let her family worry, but she had a very convincing reason to play it safe. Her decisions had brought her to this place, but they didn't just affect her anymore.

"Okay."

* * *

The night had gone better than Kevin could have hoped. Dinner had gone off without a hitch, and three hours after their arrival, Kevin had escorted three of his four guests out of his apartment. With each hour passed, each item checked off of his mental to-do list, Kevin felt the quiet panic slowly ebb away. They were so close. It was almost over.

"Now where's that pet of yours?"

Kevin turned around. Sloane was standing in the living room, holding a tumbler of expensive scotch, totally at ease. Of course he'd be comfortable. Kevin had bent over backwards to accommodate his associates, and for one fleeting moment he'd believed those accommodations would allow him to get away without involving Alexis. As usual, he was a fucking idiot.

"Don't want the others to know about your side business?" Kevin drawled.

Sloane just shrugged. "It's none of their concern. Plus, I'm sure they wouldn't be pleased to discover that the missing girl from the news has been living with you. Not exactly good for business, that. You might not get to keep her."

The threat couldn't have been any more clear. "Didn't know you watched the news, Sloane."

The man's smile was tight and unamused. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were stalling."

Kevin's hands involuntarily curled into fists, and he forced himself to relax them. "Just making conversation." He motioned one of the wait staff over. "There's a woman in the master bedroom. Tell her it's time to join us."

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, quietly proud of the way his hands didn't shake at all. Every moment of the evening, every second since he'd gotten the call from Sloane, had led up to this moment. If he played his cards right, everyone would walk away from this and he'd have a chance to figure out what his next move was. He just had to get through this night. Just a few more—

Soft steps echoed in the hallway and Alexis walked in. His breath was kicked right out of him.

A goddess walked in, her wide eyes scanning the room. Never, in all the year Kevin had known her, had he seen Alexis like this. She radiated a dark femininity. A siren. What had Brigid been thinking? How was he supposed to stay cold and in control when she looked like that? Alexis stopped just inside the doorway, staring at him for guidance. Right. He was the one who was supposed to be running the show.

"Come," he said, waving her over. He took a seat in a leather armchair, patting his thigh. She wordlessly walked over, her hips swaying, and perched herself in his lap. He was engulfed in her sweet, clean scent, and he found himself breathing deep. His pulse spiked when he noticed the slit running up her skirt, exposing her long, perfect thigh. He gulped, images of those same thighs wrapped around him coming to mind. Kevin glanced up, and his eyes caught on Sloane, who was watching them both with a predatory look. One arm wrapped snugly around her waist, and the other held tight to his drink.

"You're feeding her too much. She's getting fat."

Kevin's head jerked away from admiring the woman in his arms back to the man who seemed to be appraising her and finding her wanting. Every bit of ice and stoicism was burned right out of him. Alexis wasn't anywhere near overweight, and she'd been closer to underweight when Sloane had picked her up. Not to mention the fact that she was growing an actual human being inside her body. "No, she's not."

"She looks like she's gained at least fifteen pounds."

Alexis' fingernails bit into his thigh. She stayed silent, and an angry red blush spread across her cheekbones. Her eyes flashed up to his for just a second. She was pissed. Kevin, on the other hand, was feeling something close to fear. Sloane could never know the truth. He couldn't even suspect it.

"Why do you care what she looks like?" Kevin asked.

"You dropped a lot of cash on her. It would be a shame to let that body go to waste."

Kevin couldn't even see straight. Fury had blinded him to everything but the need to get the man in front of him to shut the fuck up.

"Looks like your girl could use a drink," Sloane drawled. "I think I've hurt her feelings."

Alexis tensed in his arms. Alcohol was not an option.

"She's not allowed," Kevin answered.

"Really? You keep her on a tight leash?"

"She knows the rules."

"I'm impressed." Sloane crossed his legs. "So you're quite satisfied with her then?"

Kevin idly brushed a curl away from her neck, pressing a gentle kiss against her racing pulse. Her skin was flushed with anger, and she needed to calm down. It couldn't be good for her or the baby. "You have no idea."

"I'd love a demonstration."

The room went silent. Fuck. There was no way in hell that would happen. "I told you I don't share."

"I'm content to watch."

He was almost breathless in disbelief. A demonstration was not going to happen. It was not what he'd prepared for. He could show her off. He could even somehow stomach talking about her like she was some kind of pleasure object. But there was no way in hell Kevin was going to let this sick bastard watch him and Alexis do _anything_.

Kevin shook his head. "I don't get off on having an audience."

"What do you get off on? Fucking the girl while she binges on cookie dough?"

Alexis jolted forward, clearly ready to cause Sloane some bodily harm, and Kevin yanked her back, pressing his mouth against hers. Sloane was baiting them both. He was playing with them, and if they weren't careful Alexis would fall right into his trap. He expected her to fight him, but instead she turned her anger back on him. Her fingers tugged roughly at his hair and she bit his bottom lip with the intent to break skin. He jerked away from her with a gasp, a metallic flavor spreading over his tongue. Anger had rendered her breathless, and she quietly shook in his arms as she glared at him.

"Your kitten has claws," Sloane said with a grin. "What else can she do?"

Kevin's gut reaction was fury. "The demonstration is over." He pushed Alexis to her feet. "Go back to the bedroom."

She didn't need to be told twice. She turned on her heel to leave the room.

"No stopping by the kitchen on your way," Sloane said with a smirk.

Alexis froze, and then she spun around, pulled her fist back, and punched Sloane in the middle of his stupid face. The crunch of broken cartilage had never sounded so sweet. And then everything happened at once.

"You fucking bitch!" Sloane grabbed his face with one hand and grabbed the skirt of her dress with the other, yanking her back onto his lap. Kevin leapt to his feet, but Alexis was already fighting back. She was wild in her fury, scratching the man's face, sinking her teeth into his hand when he grabbed at her face, screaming expletives the entire time. Sloane's fingers twisted cruelly in her hair, and Kevin's world narrowed to a red pinpoint as the man hit Alexis so hard she tumbled off his lap and hit the floor.

Before Kevin knew what was happening, his gun was trained on Sloane's forehead, and he honestly couldn't remember if the safety was on or off. "Touch her again and I'll blow your fucking head off." His voice was so low he didn't recognize it. He watched Alexis out of the corner of his eye. She wasn't moving.

"That slut needs to learn her place," Sloane snarled, standing to his full height.

Kevin had never been so angry, so destructively furious. One last shred of control was the only thing keeping him from pulling the trigger and dooming them all. "Get out."

"You're going to let her get away with that?"

"Get the fuck out!"

Sloane stalked to the exit. "You'd better teach that bitch some manners because next time I won't be so forgiving." The elevator shut behind him, and Kevin was spared the need to reply.

There wouldn't be a next time.

He rushed over to Alexis, who was pushing herself up with shaking arms. Her hair was a tangled, matted mess, her makeup was smudged, her dress was torn, and a large bruise was rising over her cheekbone. His heart sank. He'd promised to protect her. He'd promised to keep her safe and he'd failed. When would he stop failing her? His arms wrapped around her, holding her almost too tight. Her chest heaved against his as her tears fell onto his neck.

"Why?" she whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why did you let him do this to me? Why are you working with him?"

He stared into her face, her broken expression shattered every bit of anger and hurt he'd been nursing over the last several hours. When she looked at him like that, he couldn't pity himself. When she looked at him like that, he remembered exactly who the bad guy was in their situation. "Alexis—"

"Tell me!" she shrieked, and he jerked back. "You were gone for three years! You left me for dead, and then you showed back up with no warning, got me pregnant, and left again! This monster has attacked me three times now, and you just go along with it! You lock me up here to protect me, but he can just come over and hurt me whenever he wants anyway." Tears poured down her face as she pressed her hand against her abdomen. "I've given up everything for you! My life, my future, my heart, my body. I don't have anything left, Kevin! You've taken it all. So just tell me what the fuck is going on!"

Each of her words was a ten-ton weight right on his chest. This was it. The moment he'd been dreading ever since he'd found out she was alive. She'd been more than patient with him. She'd given him plenty of time to explain himself, and instead of giving her the answers she deserved, he'd selfishly enjoyed every moment he could with her. Because he knew one thing for certain: Once Alexis learned the truth, she would never love him again.

Kevin looked down and nodded. "You're right. It's time you know the truth."

* * *

Author's Note: I really hope you enjoyed the newest installment, guys, because I don't think I've ever revised anything as many times as I have this chapter.

Thanks so much to all you lovely, amazing, ruggedly handsome reviewers out there. You're the wind beneath my wings.

Next time: Kevin tells Alexis the truth.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Heart of Stone

By:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Eleven

"I found you shaking like a leaf underneath your family tree." —Bear's Den, "When You Break"

* * *

After more than three years of waiting, three years of unanswered questions and heartache, she was finally going to learn the truth.

Alexis sat against the headboard in her bed, cradling an ice pack against her aching face. Her stomach twisted with anxiety and anticipation. Kevin had explained that it would be a long story and that she might as well be comfortable for it, so she'd taken a few minutes to change out of her shredded clothes, wash her face, and comb out her hair. It seemed like he'd needed the time to collect his thoughts anyway.

Kevin was perched on the edge of the bed. He didn't seem to be able to look at her. "Kevin?" she prompted. She knew it wasn't easy for him, but she needed an answer. She'd waited long enough.

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. His gaze was locked on the floor. "How much do you remember of that day in the warehouse?"

In an instant, memories flashed in her mind. Waking up to the smell of chocolate-chip pancakes. Accidentally telling Kevin she'd like to marry him someday, and being giddy with love and relief with his answer.

 _I like the sound of that someday_.

Then other memories moved to the surface: being abducted from the parking lot of her medical school and the fear that pressed in on her as she waited, restrained with a bag over her head, to find out what would happen to her. The relief and confusion that coursed through her when she saw Kevin in that filthy warehouse. The flash of pain and then the nothingness that wrapped around her as her body succumbed to hypovolemic shock. Kevin's tear-filled eyes locked on hers. His arms wrapped around her, warming her, holding her close as she took her last breaths.

 _Alexis—stay with me. Please, just… hold on._

Darkness cradling her, and then, a world of bright lights, sharp voices, cold air that sank into her bones, and pain—unending pain.

"Everything," she whispered. "I remember everything. The old man, Sloane, Brigid, you… I remember all of it." She wished she could forget.

He nodded. "The old man's name is Quinn Nolan. He's Sloane's boss. He's the head of a crime syndicate based in Ireland, and in recent years he's expanded to New York. He's sadistic, merciless, and ambitious. He's the reason you have to wear a bulletproof vest at crime scenes now."

"What does this have to do with you?" she asked wearily.

"I—I've known him for a long time. Longer than I've known you or Castle or even Javi and Beckett." Kevin hesitated. "Nolan killed my parents."

Alexis sat ramrod straight, the ice pack slipping onto the comforter, completely forgotten. "You told me your parents died in a car crash when you were sixteen."

"They did die in a car crash. Their brake lines were cut, and someone put enough pressure on the police that it was never investigated."

"Then how do you know it was him?"

Kevin's head lifted up, and for a moment he stared off in the distance. Then his gaze dropped back down to the floor. "Because he told me."

A terrible sense of foreboding slipped into the pit of her stomach. "I don't understand."

He sighed. "I grew up in upstate New York, but after our parents died, me and my sisters went to lived with my father's parents in Ireland. We'd never met them before, but they were the only relatives we had left. They seemed so excited to welcome us into their lives. Our grandmother was a strong, kind woman—a nurse. Karen was eighteen when our parents died, and after sticking around a few months to make sure that Brig and I were in good hands, she went off to college in Dublin. Brigid was only ten and, missing both her mother and her older sister, she became very close with our grandmother. I don't see much of our mother in Brigid, but I see a lot of Moira, our grandmother, in her."

Alexis' heart broke for her friend. She couldn't imagine how awful it would be to lose your parents at any age, much less at ten years old. "And what about your grandfather?"

A bitter laugh slipped through his lips. "My grandfather saw the anger and sadness and fear in my sixteen-year-old self, and he took me under his wing. He wanted to teach me everything he knew, and for a while he filled the void my father's death left behind. He talked about family and commitment and honor and tradition. I had a lot of respect for him." His voice shook. "Just before I turned seventeen, my grandfather took me to work. He wanted to show me the family business. He said that since my dad was dead, it would be up to me to run it. He… He killed a man right in front of me, and then he told me the truth. He said my mother was a whore who had gotten pregnant on purpose and drove my father away from his family. My grandfather spent almost twenty years tracking them down. And once he did, once he saw the life they'd created and the grandson that could take his son's place, he killed them."

Alexis' eyes went wide, shock wiping away everything but one unspoken statement. "Nolan is your grandfather?"

For the first time since his confession had begun, Kevin's eyes met hers. She saw tears there—and years of hidden grief. He nodded. "After he told me all that, I tried to hurt him. I was so angry, so betrayed. I couldn't believe that someone would do that to their own family, that any man was capable of murdering their own child. All I got for my disobedience was a black eye and the chore of cleaning up the dead man's body. I don't think I've ever been so sick in my entire life." He took a deep breath. "I went along with it—I knew he'd kill me if I said no. For two months I did his dirty work and learned the ins and outs of his syndicate. But I had a plan. One night when he was away on a trip, I stole some money—enough for me and Brigid to make a new life together. She didn't want to leave. She said she was happy there and she loved our grandmother too much to run away. She didn't know what my grandfather was doing, and I didn't tell her. I mean, how do you tell an eleven-year-old that her grandfather is a murderer? That the closest thing she has to a mother has likely been complicit in these crimes? So I let her stay. That night I left Ireland, came back to the US, bought a new identity, and became Kevin Ryan."

"And your sisters?"

"I spent years hoping and praying that I hadn't abandoned them to their deaths. Turns out half my prayers were answered. Nolan's a traditional guy—he'd sooner marry her off to one of his associates than involve her in the dirty work, and our grandmother protected her, taught her medicine, and she ended up becoming the family's medical professional. After I escaped, she was watched so closely that she never had a chance to do it herself, but she didn't have to do Nolan's dirty work or become some criminal's wife. She was more or less safe."

"What about Karen?"

"She was still at college when I left. I think school was her refuge, because she didn't come home in the year I was still living with Nolan. She barely called and we kind of lost touch. I didn't worry about her as much because as long as she stayed away, I knew she'd be safe. After you d—After I came back to the family, Brigid told met that Karen had found some low-level thug in Ireland a year after I left. He'd somehow figured out the relation and pursued her in the hopes of getting Nolan's attention. She got married at nineteen, and her husband was abusive. One night he drank too much and hit her so hard she never woke up. Nolan made him pay the price, but… it's not enough." His voice shook. "I was finishing up high school under a fake identity in the US while my big sister was beaten to death. What kind of selfish person does that to his family?"

Alexis was speechless with grief. So much had been taken from him: his parents, his sister, his innocence. She was sick for him. "It's not your fault," she found herself saying. "You couldn't have known what would happen."

Kevin just rubbed his hands over his face and shook his head. For a moment she thought he was about to break down, but with yet another deep breath, he continued. "I finished high school and graduated from college and created a life for myself. After a few years in the US, I started to feel happy again. I still thought about Brigid and Karen, but I knew there was no going back. I thought the best way I could honor them was to become the kind of person who helped others in similar situations. So I joined the police academy and worked my way up to detective. I started in narcotics and was undercover for a long time. My superiors always wondered why I was so good at it. They didn't know that by that point I'd been in hiding for eight years, just trying to live my life. And then I transferred to homicide. I met Javi and Beckett and your dad, and eventually you." He gave her a small, watery smile.

"Does Esposito or Jenny know about this?"

"No. Nobody knows. I left that life behind me. You're the first person I've told."

His trust and forced confession weighed heavily on her shoulders. "I found the ring," she said suddenly. She wished she could pull the words back as soon as she had said them, but another part of her needed him to acknowledge the life they'd almost had together.

He moved a little closer, and his hand found hers. His warm touch sent shivers down her spine. She wanted to sink into the that warmth, but she had a terrible feeling that his story wasn't over yet. He watched her for a moment, his expression totally broken. "It's one of my biggest regrets that I never got to use it." His voice broke and he cleared his throat. "Alexis, you were—and are—more than I could ever hope to deserve. Just being a small part of your life made me the happiest man in the entire world. I want you to know that. I want you to know how exceptional you are and how grateful I am that you let me into your heart, even for as short a time as we had together."

Silence set in. Alexis could barely breathe under the smothering despair in the room, and tears slipped down her face. How had he carried that burden for so long? When she'd known him before, he seemed happy-go-lucky. Even those glimpses of darkness she'd seen in him—like the night his grief over Sarah Grace had led him to get drunk and start a bar fight—hadn't compared to darkness swarming around the man in front of her. She believed he really had found some way to be happy in the life he'd lived as Kevin Ryan. And she was glad that he had. He'd kept a secret of enormous proportions for almost half of his life, he carried overwhelming heartache and terrible memories, but he had somehow been strong enough to survive that—to find true happiness in the second chance he'd been given.

And she'd been a part of that happiness. She'd been a part of that second chance. Alexis was so, so sad for him, so sickened by anger for what had been taken from him, but she was relieved, too. Their time together hadn't been ruined by the secrets he'd been carrying. Their time together had been one of the best parts of his life. She wished, for the millionth time, that the last three years hadn't happened. They would have been so happy together.

Alexis took a deep breath and forced herself to ask the question that had been hanging over them since he'd showed up at her apartment. She knew the answer wouldn't be a good one. She knew the answer might break them, but she had to know.

"What happened after the warehouse?"

He released her hand and resumed his distance. For a moment, he was quiet, trying to find the words to share his side of the story. "You know your dad gave me permission to propose? Jesus, we were so happy, so hopeful, just a few hours earlier. I really thought we were going to live happily ever after. I should have known better," he said quietly, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "After the warehouse… you were so cold. There was so much blood. I… I felt like my world had died with you. Nolan said he'd killed you to teach me a lesson. And he said that if I didn't come back with him, if I didn't join the family again, that he'd do the same to everyone else I cared about—your dad, Beckett, Javi, even Brigid." He took a deep breath. "So I went with him."

She drew in a soft, shuddering breath of her own. "And the last three years?"

"I was completely intoxicated for about eight straight months. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw you die again. I knew it was my fault. I'd brought it on you. Brigid is the only reason I didn't die of alcohol poisoning. Alexis, I know it's hard for you to believe, but I really didn't know you had survived until a few months ago. I was too wasted to pay attention to the news, and I stopped being part of that world after you died. I couldn't contact your family; I couldn't check in on them. Brigid was the one who made sure Nolan kept up his end of the bargain and didn't hurt them, and she chose to keep me in the dark about your survival because she believed that you deserved a chance to heal and move on."

Alexis didn't have a response for that. She didn't know that Brigid had kept the truth from her brother, but looking back, it made perfect sense. The blonde hadn't been surprised to find Alexis alive, unlike Kevin. How much pain could have been avoided if he had just known the truth? Suddenly Alexis understood why he'd sent Brigid away. Clearly the baby wasn't the first thing she'd lied to him about.

He took a deep breath and continued. "It took over a year for me to even be able to function on a basic level, but once I did, Nolan expected me to pull my weight. He reminded me whose lives were at stake if I didn't cooperate, and for the last two years, I've done whatever he's asked."

Kevin's words hung over her head, swarming through her mind, and the weight of the grief turned to pain. She shook her head slowly, as if refusing to accept his words would make them less true. She wasn't surprised. In the back of her mind, she knew this was a very realistic possibility. But hearing Kevin acknowledge those sins was a different thing altogether.

Spurred by her reaction, Kevin moved closer, holding her hands tightly. His expression was devastated, and tears slipped down his face. "You want to know who I am now? I'm a monster. I hurt people, Alexis. I lie and steal and k-kill, and now I'm dead inside. I sold my soul to protect the people I care about, and I'd do it all over again because their safety and happiness is worth more than my rotten life."

"No," she whispered, her skin turning to ice beneath his touch.

"Do you understand now? Do you understand that I'm ruined? That there's nothing left of the man you fell in love with? He died in that warehouse."

She shook her head, sobs racking her chest. Alexis had thought that there was no excuse Kevin could give that would make her forgive him. She'd knew that he was involved in underhanded things, and she'd mentally prepared herself for them, knowing that once he confessed, she'd have to give him up.

What she didn't expect was to drown in grief. Grief for what had been taken from him. Grief for what he'd given up for his loved ones. And anger. So much anger. The emotion pressing on her chest physically hurt, because he'd been hurt. Because he believed that he was beyond saving, beyond love, beyond forgiveness. And she didn't know if that was true or not. She couldn't condone murder. She probably couldn't condone any of the things he'd done under his grandfather's orders. But when she looked at the broken man in front of her, the man who had lost so much and willingly given up the rest of his life to keep her friends and family safe… She couldn't condemn him either. Her arms wrapped around herself, but Kevin kept his distance.

"Why didn't you ask for help? Why did you take this burden alone?"

"I called Castle before going to the warehouse that night. He didn't make it in time to stop what happened, but he did make it in time to save you, so I guess it worked out." He sighed. "I'm not happy with how my life turned out, Alexis, but after all the suffering that had already happened because of me, after watching you bleed out… I couldn't endanger them like that. How was I supposed to look Castle in the face after you'd been hurt so badly because of me? How was I supposed to ask them to endanger their lives because I'd been keeping secrets?"

"They love you," she said. "They would have helped you. They would have done whatever they could to keep all of this from happening."

"And they would have died for their efforts. Alexis, I already got my second chance. I don't deserve another one, and I'm certainly not going to risk other people's lives over it."

She simply couldn't believe how quickly he'd given up on himself. It wasn't fair—to him or anyone else. Why hadn't he fought harder?

"How did you find me?" she asked.

"The fire. It was me."

Her eyes widened. "You… You saved my life?"

"I thought I was imagining things at first. It wouldn't have been the first time I hallucinated and saw you, but the scar made me hope enough to look for you. Unfortunately, Nolan found out that I went back in, and that's how Sloane ended up finding you too. The old man doesn't like loose ends."

They were all caught up, and Alexis wished she had never asked in the first place. She'd thought getting the answers would help. It didn't. "What about Sloane? Why does he have so much power?"

"He's Nolan's personal bulldog, and he's beyond my reach. If I do anything to him, it's all over. Your family's dead, and that son of a bitch isn't worth their lives."

"So... what? He just gets to do whatever the hell he wants and we'll never be able to fight back?"

He paused, as if questioning how much he should tell her. "Nolan has stage four pancreatic cancer. He's got a few more months at most."

"That's a painful way to die," she said. She was glad for his pain. He deserved it. "And when he's gone? What happens then?"

"Sloane wants to lead, and I'm sure he'd love to get rid of me so he has total claim to the syndicate. I think the only thing that's stopped him so far is that he doesn't have enough of a following yet to overthrow Nolan and take things into his own hands. The old man may be bedridden and dying, but he's got a loyal following. It's a waiting game, Alexis. Right now our hands are tied, but so are Sloane's. Once Nolan goes... the rules will change. I don't know if that change will be for better or worse."

"We have to call my family, Kevin. We need help. We can't do this alone."

" _You_ don't have to do anything," he reminded her. "I'll take care of it."

"Kevin—"

"You don't think Nolan's reach extends to the NYPD? How else do you think he's gained so much power so quickly? How else would it be so easy for him to kill your family if he thought I wasn't under his control anymore?"

"So we'll go higher," she said. "There's got to be a solution—"

"I said I'll take care of it, Alexis. You don't need to worry. I won't let anything happen to—"

"You don't have the power to promise that!" she snapped, knowing exactly how many times he'd said those words and how many times she'd ended up hurt anyway. "There's a baby coming, Kevin—"

"I know there's a baby coming!"

His angry retort shocked her into silence. His blue eyes were wild, and he ran his hands through his hair. "And I swear on my life that you will both be safe."

Her mind shifted back through every moment since she'd seen him again after three years. He'd done nothing but love her, and every single action he'd taken had been to protect her, whether she liked it or not, whether she was kind or grateful or not. He accepted her hatred and anger, and he'd returned them with love and patience. He'd protected her, comforted her, taken care of her and loved her, asking for nothing in return.

She'd been terrified to find out who the father of her child was. That was why she hadn't told him. She didn't trust him. And it turned out she was at least partially right to not trust him. There was blood on his hands, and those stains were created out of his love for her and her family. The father of her child was a murderer. The father of her child had sacrificed everything to protect the people he loved. She couldn't reconcile those two halves.

Tears slid down her face, fear and heartache pulling shallow sobs from her chest. She was so tired of crying. She was so tired of everything. "How?"

He slowly moved closer, and she didn't shy away. Despite what she now knew, despite the many sins she couldn't bring herself to accept about him, it didn't even occur to her to be afraid of the broken, criminal man in front of her. His hands rested on her abdomen, the heat of his skin sinking through her shirt. She relaxed against his touch as his forehead pressed against hers. "I have a plan."

"What plan?"

"I'm going to take them down—Nolan and Sloane both. And I'm going to do it without killing them. I just need some time to get everything ready."

"I want to go home," she said. She didn't want to talk anymore. She didn't want to hear how fucked they truly were. She wanted to sleep, to eat something, to run outside with no more walls pressing in on her. She wanted Kevin to hold her and promise her that everything would be okay. And she wanted him to stop touching her with those bloodstained hands.

"I know. And you will." He sounded sad about that. "I know this is... a nightmare for you, but I need you to wait just a little longer, okay?"

"How long?"

"Two, maybe three months at most."

Months. He'd said months. Alexis tried to imagine three more months of being trapped inside his apartment. Claustrophobia pressed in on her, and nausea twisted in her stomach. She bolted away from him, barely making it to the bathroom in time. Her empty stomach heaving, releasing nothing. Tears slid down her face and spots appeared in her vision. Gentle hands pulled her hair away from her face and caught her when her body stopped trying to expel the panic inside her.

He pulled her back against his chest. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

She didn't know what he was apologizing for. It could have been any number of things.

But for the first time, Alexis found she didn't care. She didn't care that he loved her. She didn't care about what he'd done. She didn't even care that she was six months away from bringing an unwanted, ill-timed baby into the world.

Darkness wrapped around her like an old friend, and Alexis gave up. Exhaustion, heartache, and heavy, soul-crushing truths had taken everything out of her. There was simply nothing left.

* * *

Author's Note: Wow, guys. This chapter was even harder to write than the final chapter of _In My Veins_. I've gone back and forth on how to tell Kevin's story while being true to both of the characters most affect by his decisions—Alexis and Kevin himself. I hope I achieved that in this chapter.

On a happy note, today is Seamus Dever's birthday and _In My Veins_ turns one tomorrow! (Or today for my British readers—Loujohn, I'm looking at you!) Last July 28th, after a few months of this crazy Rylexis story kicking around in my head, I wrote and posted the first chapter. I had no idea what a huge project this would become or how much I would come to love these characters. If you're reading this, that means you've tagged along for this crazy ride. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I'd love to know what you think of the big revelation—love, hate, or indifference—so please review.

Next time: The truth is out. Now Kevin and Alexis have to learn to live with it, and Castle finally catches a break on his daughter's case.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Heart of Stone

By

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Twelve

"I'd like to know if you'd be open to starting over from scratch." - Kendall Payne, "Scratch"

* * *

"Miss Harper?"

Alexis glanced up at the doctor, who was looking at her expectantly. She'd been staring at her baby on the ultrasound and hadn't been listening.

"How's your energy levels these days? Are you still exercising? Are you sleeping enough?"

The answers were nonexistent, barely, and never. Kevin watched her with poorly concealed anxiety. Alexis just nodded, then turned back to the screen. She knew what depression felt like. There wasn't much the doctor could do about it.

The rest of her weekly appointment went smoothly. All the tests had turned out well. Her baby didn't suffer any abnormalities. She was grateful for that. Her doctor gave her a speech about prenatal exercise and then finished up the appointment by telling them they could find out the gender at the next ultrasound.

"Can I speak to you in private?" Kevin asked the doctor. They left the room, and Alexis was given some time to clean up and stare at the ultrasound images.

Ever since Kevin found out about the baby, he'd become relentless in making sure both of them were healthy. He'd hired a private OB to make house calls every two weeks, and he'd bought an ultrasound machine. No more sneaking around for prenatal care. Everything came to her.

At sixteen weeks the baby was looking more and more like an actual infant, and she'd started to show. There was a small but clearly noticeable bump in her lower abdomen. She caught Kevin staring at it on several occasions in the past month, but of course he never touched her and rarely said anything to her anymore.

She missed him.

The door to the converted exam room opened, and Kevin came back in. Alexis kept her eyes glued to the image in her hands. The doctor emailed the images from each appointment to Kevin, but since Alexis couldn't access the internet, she got to keep the printouts. She'd started her own collection of photos in the bottom drawer of Kevin's bedside table. Mixed in with photos of the people she loved the most and the man who had stolen and then broken her heart were images of their child. It was almost poetic.

Kevin moved close, looking over her shoulder at the image in her hands. "It's getting big."

"He is," Alexis answered.

"We don't know the gender yet."

"Doesn't feel right to call the baby 'it.'"

Silence set in, but he didn't leave. Alexis wondered why that was. He'd just said more words to her in the last minute that he had in the last week. Since his confession, since the bridge they'd been building had been thoroughly shattered and the gap between them widened by the secrets each of them had been carrying, they'd settled into a lonely truce. Alexis still had all the same freedoms she had before, and Kevin took great care to make sure she was comfortable and well taken care of. The ridiculously expensive OB he'd hired was proof of that. A few baby books had mysteriously appeared on her bedside table one night, along with clothes that allowed for her expanding waistline. He was still taking care of her—and was almost obsessive in his need to make sure the baby was healthy—he just didn't come around anymore. There were no more late-night talks, no more falling asleep in his arms or being physical in any way, shape, or form. He was gone.

"Do you want some lunch?" Kevin asked.

She frowned, confused by his offer. He's worried about the baby, a voice in her head reminded her. His offer had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the child that depended on her to grow. "I'm not hungry." She walked past him and returned to her bedroom, curling up under the heavy covers and closing her eyes. Sleep was better. It was a win-win. It helped her baby, and it took her away from reality. And there was something about sleeping during the day, with the sunlight shining in through the window, that helped her feel safe. She'd been sleeping fitfully since the day Kevin had woken her up and then paraded her in front of Sloane a month before. That encounter had calibrated her body for stress, for the need to protect itself, and since that day she no longer entertained fantasies of escaping. Now that she fully understand what she was up against, Alexis knew she and her baby would be dead before she got off the elevator.

Alexis was just dozing off as a fruity scent invaded her nostrils, and her stomach protested loudly. She forced her eyes open, her gaze landing on the tall glass on her bedside table. Kevin had made her a strawberry smoothie—her favorite. He was anticipating her needs once again, assuming that she'd be hungry when she woke up. And he was right. She was always hungry.

She huffed at him in annoyance, emotions spinning, making her stomach clench. Why did he have to be so thoughtful? Why did have to do things that made it impossible for her to hate him? And why did he have to do those things and then keep his distance? It was beyond confusing. Would he be so accommodating if she wasn't carrying his child? Would he even care about her at all, or would he have thrown her to the wolves?

She immediately answered her own question. He'd still treat her well if she wasn't pregnant. She didn't even know how he felt about the baby—if he wanted it at all. Of course he would protect it. Of course he would do everything in his power to care for it. But that wasn't the same thing as wanting another child. Kevin's first child had been taken from him when he'd been living the perfect, normal life. His second child was being thrust upon him in the worst possible circumstances.

She turned on her side, her mind spinning. Whenever Alexis had imagined being pregnant, it hadn't been like this—of course it hadn't been like this—but she hadn't realized the simple luxuries that she hadn't given a second thought about. Like sharing the news with family and friends, like having a committed, stable relationship with the father of her child, like being able to come and go as she pleased and decorate a nursery without asking someone else's permission.

Whenever she imagined herself becoming a mother, she'd thought her busy, full life would open up for the child. She'd never imagined that her entire life would narrow down to having a baby. That it would become her only reason for not tumbling headfirst into the deepest, most smothering depression, for not recklessly breaking a window twenty stories up and seeing if she could catch the nearby fire escape without being killed. None of this was how either of them wanted it.

Unable to sleep, she sat up and pulled a small notepad out of the bedside table. The first page was a list of good and bad—a way for Alexis to attempt to wrap her mind around the impossible reality she'd been living for three months. She added an item to the good side of the list:

 _Takes care of me/the baby no matter what._

She looked down at the note pad. The list of good things ran almost the entire way down the page. In fact, Kevin list of virtues was easily seven or eight times longer than his list of sins. But those three items on the bad list held very powerful evidence.

A strawberry smoothie paled in comparison to multiple counts of murder, and no matter how many times she thought about it, she couldn't wrap her mind around Kevin Ryan, the man she loved, the father of her child, being a murderer. By that same token, she recognized the depth of his sacrifices for her, for her family. The lengths he'd gone to so her family would be safe made her a little sick, but that selfless protectiveness also made her love him even more.

She flipped the pages over, skipping over letter after letter that she'd written in the days since the revelation. The scientist in her had to have the list, the empirical evidence, but that wasn't enough. Alexis knew enough about the world, about people, to understand that nothing was as cut and dry as that. So she wrote letters. Just like she'd done in the three years they'd been apart. They helped her sort out her feelings. And there was freedom in writing the things you'd never be able to say.

 _Dear Kevin,_

 _Today we saw our baby again. He's getting big—you said so yourself. My body definitely thinks he's getting big. I can't believe there's still five more months to go. I saw the way you watched me during the ultrasound, and I know why you're so worried, but you don't need to be. I won't let anything happen to the baby. I think that's the only thing we can agree on right now._

 _Kevin, I keep thinking about what you told me. And I keep ending at the same two questions. Why didn't you ask for help? You had connections. You had people who loved and cared about you. Why didn't you trust them to be able to handle Nolan and Sloane and all the demons from your past? I know hindsight is 20/20, but I really believe that everything could have been different if, instead of giving in, you leaned on your friends for support. Maybe I would have really died, but you wouldn't have had to live in this hell. Maybe I would have lived. Maybe we could have beaten them together. There's no way to know what would have happened, but it had to be better than this._

 _Of course, it's not as if I'm the virtuous one here. Virtuous people tend to not hide the existence of a child from its father, but you have to understand why I did it. After everything you've done to keep your loved ones safe, you have to see that I was only trying to do the same thing. I was just trying to keep our baby safe._

 _And that brings me to my second question. Since we seem to be on the same page as far as lies and secrets go, I keep asking myself this one question: If I were in your shoes, if you were lying dead on the ground in front of me and a madman was threatening everyone I loved, would I give in too?_

 _I don't like the answer._

* * *

It was four in the morning by the time Kevin got home. He punched the new password into the elevator, riding it up to his apartment. Ever since he and Alexis had pissed off Sloane, Kevin had been extra careful. There was a new set of pass codes to get up to the apartment, surveillance cameras, and Kevin was alerted by text message every time someone used the elevator at all. He couldn't do much more than that, and it did help ease his mind somewhat to know that Alexis and the baby were just a little safer. It was the least he could do for them. Kevin's keys clanked on the kitchen counter as he headed directly for the fridge, pulling out a beer and twisting the cap off in one smooth motion. The bittersweet concoction slid down his throat, easing some of the tension that had been pulling him apart for the last month.

Predictably, Sloane had been a nightmare since Kevin had thrown him out of his apartment, and the bastard had been shoving work onto Kevin's shoulders as a small way to pay him back for the disrespect. As long as Nolan was still micromanaging the syndicate from his hospital bed, Sloane couldn't do much more than that. For the first time in nineteen years, Kevin was glad his grandfather was still around. The old man was the perfect buffer between Sloane and Alexis, even as he casually held the lives of Alexis' family in his hands. Jesus, how had he let this knotted up web of murder threats and blackmail become his life? When had this become his version of normal?

Kevin tossed the empty bottle in the garbage and pulled out another, letting the cap join its friend on his kitchen counter. All he wanted to do was drink and then crawl into bed for the next week. Not that he'd have a chance. Between quietly putting up with Sloane's hissy fit and trying to take care of Alexis, he was already stretched thin. More and more, Kevin was wishing he hadn't told his sister to stay away until he called her. He needed another set of hands, another pair of eyes. Alexis needed someone to talk to—someone who didn't have the blood on his hands that Kevin did.

Things had changed since the truth came out. Alexis had been surprisingly sympathetic to his situation, which was more than he could have hoped for. She didn't seem to hate him. She didn't seem to think he was a monster. But his truth was a heavy one, and the weight of it had taken a toll on her. Kevin could see it in her face as he told her each detail, and he'd seen it every day since then. He kept his distance, letting any tiny steps forward be entirely on her terms. Alexis hadn't once tried to bridge that gap. He'd been right to think she wouldn't want him anymore.

With a heavy sigh, Kevin pushed off of the counter and tossed the second empty bottle into the garbage. He needed sleep—as much as he could get. He dragged his feet down the hallway, stopping at the light spilling from under Alexis' door. Immediately, he changed his trajectory to check on her. Four in the morning was late, even for her.

The door swung open, and he found her stretched out on top of the bedcovers in the same clothes she'd been wearing that day. The empty glass on the bedside table was the only indication that anything had changed from nearly twelve hours before. Her eyes darted around under her eyelids as he tugged the comforter aside and lay her down on the cool bedsheets.

Her t-shirt rode up, revealing the tiny bump on her abdomen. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out and touching it. Her skin was warm and soft. God, he missed her. He missed talking to her. He missed touching her. He missed her smile. Kevin had been keeping up with her pregnancy, and he was so relieved that the baby seemed to be in good health. He loved her baby bump. And as dangerous and foolish a situation as it was, he loved that a child made up of both of them was growing inside her. He kept the ultrasound images and videos on his phone, watching them when he knew he was alone. They had been his single comfort in the last exhausting, lonely month. He leaned over, brushing the lightest of kisses across her cheekbone before pulling the comforter over her.

As the blanket shifted, a notepad fell on the floor, and Kevin saw his name. Without a second thought, he picked it up and began to read.

* * *

Alexis was awakened by a terrible urge to pee. It was quickly becoming the way she started every day, and she sleepily stumbled to the bathroom. Pale, early morning light shone in through the window, casting the room in gray tones. It was enough to make her want to go back to sleep, but her stomach said she needed to eat first. She hadn't had anything since the smoothie the afternoon before.

She padded to the kitchen, already planning the quickest snack her stomach would allow before embracing her pillows once more. She'd tossed and turned for hours the night before. She wasn't anywhere near rested. She grabbed a yogurt from the fridge, eating it while leaning against the kitchen counter and following it up with a banana and a bottle of water. Her angry stomach welcomed the nourishment. She noticed two beer bottle caps laying on the counter, and picked one up. Kevin must have left them.

In her half-remembered dreams, Alexis had felt him nearby, had smelled his cologne, and warmed at the sensation of his lips on her cheekbone. But of course that was just a dream. Her gaze traveled from the kitchen and through the doorway to the living room. She hadn't been in there since her disastrous encounter with Sloane. From her limited vantage point, she could see another beer bottle on the coffee table along with an odd black shape, and something about it made her feet carry her inside the room.

Kevin was sitting up on the couch, his head tilted back, his eyes closed. His feet were up on the table. They were the shape she couldn't figure out. He looked different when he was sleeping. His walls were down, and he was vulnerable. More than anything else, he just looked tired. Completely drained. She wasn't surprised. It seemed like he was coming and going constantly. His hands rested on a notepad in his lap, and Alexis moved closer. Fear and embarrassment mixed when she realized he'd been reading her notepad.

She leaned over and carefully pulled the small book out from under his hand. The words "Dear Kevin" screamed out at her from the pages. And her heart skipped into double time. He'd read her letters to him—all the fear and insecurity and loneliness and confusion. He knew all about it. She ran her finger over a smear of ink that she knew hadn't been there before. Tiny, ink-stained circles were spattered across several pages. Had he... Had he been crying?

Alexis glanced back down at him, noting the dark circles under his eyes. She had a pair to match. His neck was pulled at an angle that had to be uncomfortable. She looked down at the pages again. One small paragraph was rendered almost illegible by the watermarks, but she knew what she'd written. The same sentiment had been bouncing between her mind and her heart for the last month.

 _Even after everything you've done, I still love you. But I don't know how to accept who you've become._

Her words had torn him open. The evidence was smeared across the page in front of her. Alexis kneeled next to him on the couch, giving his shoulders a gentle shake. He jolted forward, his eyes bleary, bloodshot, and unfocused. His gaze moved from her face to the notepad in her hands. "I saw my name," he tried to explain, his voice rough.

"Come to bed."

Her words could not have been more surprising to him. He shook his head in disbelief, and she stood up, taking his hand. "Come on. You need to get some rest."

"I'm okay here—"

"No, you're not." She tugged at his hand until he was standing next to her. "You look terrible." She led his half-sleeping form down the hallway. Exhaustion had made him particularly compliant.

"Together?"

She led him into the bedroom and closed the curtains. "Together." She dug through the dresser until she found one of the last pairs of sweatpants that remained in the room and threw them over at him.

"Why?" he asked as if he was afraid of the answer—as if her behavior had given him hope, and he was already preparing himself for the letdown.

"Because I'm tired of being alone, and I think you are too."

"But what about—"

She sought refuge under the comforter, her eyes heavy in the dimly lit bedroom. "Come to bed, Kevin."

The soft sounds of him undressing were her only reply, and soon the bed dipped down next to her. His fingertips brushed over her arm, his touch hesitant.

"Alexis?"

There were more questions wrapped up in those three syllables than she knew how to answer, even if she'd actually had the energy to do so. She found his hand, using it as a guide to sink against his chest. Heat pressed against her back, and she wrapped his arm around her waist, resting their entwined hands on her baby bump. Her tired body sang at the comfortable, warm position. "Go to sleep."

In no time at all, Kevin's rigid body relaxed, and she felt his breathing begin to even out. "I missed you," he whispered sleepily.

Before succumbing to her heavy eyelids, Alexis allowed herself just a moment to appraise the situation. She was in the arms of the man she loved, the father of her child, the enigma whose decisions haunted her just as much as they made her love him more. She felt safe, cherished—like she belonged there. Nothing had ever been so conflicting; nothing had ever felt so right.

"I missed you, too."

* * *

Across the city, Rick Castle was rocking his youngest daughter to sleep. Ever since Alexis had disappeared, Johanna had been plagued by nightmares. It was a good night if the child only woke up crying and screaming once, and Rick had spent most of the night soothing her. Johanna's tiny arms were wrapped around his neck, her head rested against her shoulder. She was sleeping again, only emitting the occasional sob, but Rick couldn't bring himself to be put her back in her bed. It was selfish, but a small part of him secretly enjoyed moments like this one, when Johanna needed him and he was the only one who could scare the monsters away.

Alexis had been gone for three months. He was beyond sick about it—beyond grief. Fear had hollowed out his insides, and that helpless panic had faded into tired determination. Of course he'd still look for her, of course he'd never stop looking for her, but he'd stopped getting his hopes up over every potential lead. He'd stopped letting those worst-case scenarios consume him. His body and mind had learned to live with this impossible situation, this new normal.

He still had a wife, a mother, and another daughter. He wasn't alone in his search, and he couldn't lose himself in grief. It wouldn't be fair to the family he still had, or the daughter whose disappearance had cast a shadow over all of their lives. Rick had exhausted his numerous contacts, the NYPD and FBI were still looking. Sooner or later, they'd find a lead. They'd find Alexis. Rick held on to that belief and tried not to think about what kind of state Alexis would be in when they finally brought her home. Thinking about all the things he had no power to change was enough to make him lose his mind.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and Rick awkwardly shifted Johanna in his arms so he could reach it. It was a text message. He didn't recognize the number, but he had a pretty good idea who it was from. Hunt never used the same burner phone for long.

He also kept his messages succinct: "Look familiar?"

There was a photo attached to the message, and Rick pressed on the icon to open it. The photo knocked the air clean out of him.

"Son of a bitch."

There he was—the man who had been seen abducting Alexis. Rick had never hated a person as much as he loathed that nameless man, but he couldn't focus on that. That wasn't the part that had chilled him to the bone and sucked all the oxygen out of the room. Rick blinked at the photo, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him because the scene in front of him was impossible. It couldn't be real.

The anonymous kidnapper was shaking hands with Kevin Ryan.

* * *

Author's Note: I think I'll just leave it there for now.

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You guys are awesome, and I'm so glad you're enjoying this story.

Next time: Kevin and Alexis try to move forward, and Castle, Beckett, and Javi are forced to ask hard questions in the face of their newest lead.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Thirteen

"This one's for the lonely." - Greg Laswell, "Come and Goes In Waves"

* * *

Pregnancy was the hardest thing Alexis had ever done. Sleepless night in med school were a breeze compared to the plethora of sensations her body experienced with each passing day. The latest hurdle was prenatal yoga. Her OB had suggested it as a low-impact exercise regimen that she could continue well into her third trimester. At only eighteen weeks, Alexis didn't see how it was possible to continue the torturous exercise for even one more hour, much less another twenty-two weeks. She'd done yoga a few times before she'd gotten pregnant, and she thought it was hard then. If only she'd known how impossible it would be to move and bend her body with a baby growing inside it.

Stretched into an awkward, belly-anchored downward-dog, Alexis reached out to the book in front of her to turn the page for the next pose. She breathed in and out, slowly and deeply, maintaining the rhythm she'd been taught. Sweat ran down her forehead, burning into her eyes, and she immediately broke her stance.

"Goddamn it," she mumbled. With bloodshot eyes she glared back at the book. She'd only been fifteen minutes into the routine, but she was sweating and panting like she'd run five miles. Alexis gracelessly collapsed onto the mat, and her lower back immediately complained at the pressure the baby lay across her midsection. She rolled onto her side with a groan. Would this ever stop being terrible? The second trimester was supposed to be the honeymoon period of pregnancy. Sure, she threw up a lot less, but otherwise her "honeymoon" had never arrived.

"You okay?"

Kevin leaned against the doorway, wearing yesterday's clothes. Dark circles hugged his eyes, and Alexis glanced at the clock hanging on the wall in the home gym. It was just past nine in the morning. He must just be getting home.

"What does it look like?" she asked.

He stepped inside, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "You look like a gorgeous, glowing—"

"Sweaty cow," she finished.

"Not even close."

His jacket fell to the hardwood floor as he stood just outside her mat. "You want some help?"

"You got a time machine?"

His expression was almost hurt, and Alexis forced herself to sit up, anger and frustration making her immune to guilt. "I just hate this, okay? I know I'm supposed to feel happy and excited, like a life-giving goddess or some other bullshit, but I can't. I want my life back!"

Tears burned at her eyes. Stupid hormones. It was like her body wasn't even hers anymore. She was a vessel, an incubator. Through her blurry vision she saw Kevin sit down next to her. She figured out what he was going to do a half second before he did it.

"Don't—"

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his lap, and she immediately clutched onto him, holding him as tight as she could. He was all she had, and a large part of her hated him for it. But stubborn self-righteousness was a lonely path. Alexis could never revile him for long, though she certainly tried. Lately she'd ended up in his bed most nights, whether he was in it or not. She couldn't sleep without his scent nearby. And though she'd never tell him, those mornings when she'd wake up to find him curled around her were her favorite occurrences.

Her tears abated, but she held on. He tugged the elastic from her hair and combed out her sweaty braid, the gentle pressure on her scalp soothing in a way that nothing else could. This was why, time and time again, she let him back in. Kevin was the only one who could make her feel halfway human.

"I think you've done enough yoga today."

"No shit," she sniffed, pulling away so she could look into his eyes.

He brushed the last of the tears away from her face. "What else do you want?"

She hesitated, glancing down at her lap. Kevin gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes again. There was an earnest desire to help in those blue depths. "Tell me what to do," he said.

"I want a back massage," Alexis confessed. "And a hamburger with extra pickles and onions. And a chocolate milkshake."

"I can do that." His fingertips brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You know, you can tell me when you want these kinds of things. You're not alone in this." His voice was low and soft, soothing to the extreme.

"And when you're gone?"

"I'm thinking of you—trying to get back home to you, trying to keep you safe."

Alexis rested her head against his shoulder. "I don't want to do this anymore."

"I know."

"Whenever I dreamed of having a family with you—"

"It wasn't like this," he finished.

"It wasn't."

"Can I tell you something?" he asked, his chin resting on the crown of her head. "Something selfish?"

Alexis looked up at him. He was the least selfish person she'd ever met. "What is it?"

"I know this isn't how we wanted things to happen." He threaded his fingers through hers. "But I'd rather have it happen this way than not happen at all."

Silence set in. Alexis had no idea how to respond to that, because while it felt good to hear those words from his mouth, she wasn't sure she agreed. She'd given up so much.

"Kevin—"

"It's okay. You don't have to feel the same way." He forced a smile, standing up and helping her slowly stand up. "Why don't you go take a shower? Junk food and a massage will be waiting when you're done."

Her arms slipped around his middle. Hugs were becoming increasingly awkward with the baby bump between them, but she needed to do something. She couldn't just let the words hang between them. "Thank you."

"Always."

* * *

Their baby was a girl.

Kevin was almost mute with shock. The doctor had given them the usual speech and had taken his leave. Hours later, Alexis was taking a hot bath to soothe her aching muscles. Kevin was cooking dinner, an act he found great solace in.

Alexis pressed her hand against her abdomen. A girl. She was having a girl. Alexis closed her eyes, imagining tiny dresses and a small, red-headed toddler with Kevin's eyes.

At twenty weeks, she was halfway there. It seemed like just yesterday she'd found out she was pregnant. Now she had an infant inside her—an infant that could, with a lot of medical intervention, survive without her in another four or five weeks. She'd done that. She and Kevin had created this tiny life that would be a part of the world in just a few months. Alexis couldn't believe it, but the evidence was right in front of her. She was going to be a mother. She was going to have a daughter.

There was a funny turn low in her stomach, like she was tumbling downward, and then it stopped. Alexis jolted upright, pressing her hands against the baby bump. What the—

Just beneath her fingertips something shifted. The sensation was soft as a butterfly kiss, and if she hadn't felt that dip in her stomach to accompany the movement, she might have missed it completely.

"Kevin!"

Seconds later, he rushed into the bathroom, frightened by the urgency in her voice. "What is it? Are you—" He stopped when he caught onto the fact that she was naked in the bathtub.

She reached for his hand, yanking him to his knees and pressing his palm against her partially submerged abdomen.

"Alexis—"

She shushed him, lacing their fingers and guiding his hand over her wet skin until she found the right spot. She pressed hard against it, and that dizzying turn moved through her belly again.

He breathed in sharply, and Alexis knew he had felt it too. He mimicked her movement, pressing against her skin, and like prenatal morse code, the baby responded.

"There she is," Alexis whispered. Something like happiness bubbled inside her chest and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

He laughed; she hadn't heard that sound in over three years. "Hello, sweetheart," he said to her stomach. Alexis beamed at him, and he impulsively kissed her.

"I love you so much," he whispered.

She froze. After everything they'd been through and had learned about each other, Alexis had never expected to hear those words from his mouth again. She'd held him at arm's length for so long... Those words reached some dark, hidden part of her heart.

She cupped his face, bringing his lips down to meet hers. The kiss was slow, gentle—a small, growing flame that spread across her skin. Her tongue traced his lips, and with a groan of desire he pulled her up, her wet body pressing against his clothes. As soon as she stepped out of the tub, Kevin scooped her into his arms, carrying her bridal style to the bedroom. Her back hit the bedsheets, and she reached for the buttons of his shirt.

His hands closed over hers. "Alexis."

She looked up at him, seeing nothing but love for her in his expression. He didn't want this to be a mistake. She kissed him gently, then whispered in his ear, "Make love to me."

His pupils dilated, and he let her hands resume their task. His hands moved through her damp locks as he pressed a line of kisses down her neck.

Soon they were skin to skin, moving as one, and for the first time in over three years Alexis felt like she'd come home.

* * *

Author Note: The lyrics say it all. I really hope you liked this one, guys. I'd love to know what you think.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Fourteen

"If you hold my hand and take me where you go, I'll show you the side that no one knows." —Broods, "Taking You There"

* * *

Kevin woke up entangled with Alexis, her bare skin pressed against his own as she slept soundly in his arms. She was curled up on her side, facing him, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. Her distended abdomen pressed against his torso, and he could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest as she slept. He brushed a rogue strand of hair out of her face, marveling at the sheer luck that had brought him to that moment.

This was his favorite way to wake up, and in the last six weeks it had quickly become part of their routine. Despite the odd hours he was keeping, Alexis always slept later than him. She was on the cusp of her third trimester, and that fatigue she'd been mostly free of for the past few months was returning. Kevin let her rest as much as possible, taking every opportunity he could to bond with his daughter.

His hands pressed against Alexis' stomach, and after a moment he could feel the baby moving around. She was always active in the late morning, and with each passing week she became easier to feel.

" _Dia duit mo ghile_ ," he said in a soft, low voice. "Good morning, little one."

There was a particularly forceful kick against his hand in response. She knew his voice. He was sure of it. Alexis' fingers sleepily found his. "Ow," she mumbled.

Kevin kissed her stomach. "Did I wake you?"

"That penalty kick did."

"She was saying good morning."

"Mm," she responded, blinking against the late-morning light shining through the windows. "What time is it?"

"Just after eleven. You hungry?"

Her hands slid across his shoulders. "Not for food."

Kevin grinned at the clear desire in her eyes. Alexis was a bundle of needs, and he was more than happy to fulfill every single one of them. He stretched out next to her, his mouth inches from hers. "What would you like?"

Her hand slid down his torso, and he moaned when her fingers wrapped around him. "Give you one guess."

Moments later, she was straddling him, rocking on him with a lazy rhythm that drove him wild. It was simultaneously too slow and too fast, dancing down the line between slow lovemaking and passionate fucking.

"Alexis," he moaned, jerking his hips upward, grinding her hips downward—anything to stop the teasing. She just kept the rhythm going, leaning down as far as her belly would allow to kiss him. Frustrated, he bit her bottom lip and she moaned into his mouth, her fingernails leaving crescent moons on his chest. She was close. He on the other hand, was going crazy with unfulfilled desire.

He rolled them over, pulling out and dragging her to the edge of the bed. Alexis laughed at his initiative.

Much as he enjoyed being on top of her and feeling every inch of her soft skin move against his, that was becoming increasingly difficult with the baby between them. They had to improvise. Standing at the end of the bed, her legs wrapped around his hips, Kevin eased his way back inside her. He set a grueling rhythm, one they both enjoyed if Alexis' moans were any indication. Sooner than he would have liked, she clamped down on him with a cry, and the world narrowed to pure sensation as he spilled himself inside her.

He collapsed next to her, and her fingers threaded through his. "Good morning," she panted.

Yes, he was definitely the luckiest man in the entire world. The last six weeks had been as close to heaven as he was ever going to get, and he'd savored every moment he could with the woman he loved, watching in awe as their child grew inside her. He kissed her shoulder. "You okay? I wasn't too rough?"

She shook her head with a grin. "You were just right." Her stomach audibly growled. "You said something about breakfast?"

He laughed, pressing a gentle kiss to her belly. "Anything for my two best girls."

* * *

After taking a shower, Alexis stood in front of the bathroom mirror, slowly combing out her hair. It was longer and thicker now than it had ever been, and that wasn't the only difference. Twenty-six weeks of pregnancy had brought color to her face and filled out her sharp cheekbones. Despite everything, she looked happier now than she had in years. She wasn't sure how that was possible, but she couldn't deny the proof right in front of her.

The last six weeks had been a small piece of heaven. Every moment in Kevin's company had been perfect—talking, laughing, making love, falling asleep in each other's arms, talking to their baby and feeling her respond. Alexis hadn't realized how much loneliness, how much empty darkness, had taken root in her heart until she'd finally given in and let herself try to be happy with Kevin. She hadn't even had to try hard. Being happy with him was as easy as falling asleep.

"Alexis," she heard him call from the kitchen. "It's almost ready."

Alexis slipped on a loose-fitting dress and joined him in the kitchen. He was wearing only his sweatpants, and his mussed hair screamed that he'd just gotten laid. A carton of eggs and a bowl of batter sat on the counter. The smell of fried dough hit her before her mind could fully process the scene in front of her. Nausea squeezed her stomach and anxiety slammed into her chest. She gagged at the scent, clapping her hands over her mouth and shaking her head.

Kevin frowned at her response. "Alexis?"

Seconds later she was dry heaving into the sink.

"Sweetheart—"

"Pancakes," she managed. "I can't—not since—" another round of nausea hit her, and she coughed and retched, her empty stomach yielding nothing. Her head spun as she clutched the edge of the sink. She heard Kevin knocking around in the kitchen behind her, and a few moments later cool hands ran brushed her long hair to the side. His hand moved up and down her back until her stomach stopped heaving. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She shook her head. Her sensitive nose could still pick up the scent of batter from the garbage can, and she didn't trust herself to open her mouth without throwing up.

"You want to lay down for a minute?"

Alexis nodded, and Kevin guided her into the living room and helped her get comfortable on the couch. He hurried back to the kitchen while Alexis took deep breaths to slow her nausea and racing heart. The last time she'd been triggered like that was when her dad make pancakes for her one Sunday morning long before she'd moved to LA. It had only been a few months since the warehouse, and Alexis had spent the rest of the afternoon in the bathroom, sick to her stomach, while her father begged her to come out. It had been three and a half years since that day, and Alexis had thought that perhaps she was over that particular trigger. Knives didn't bother her, but put a plate of pancakes in front of her and she was helpless. It was almost funny.

Kevin returned with a cool, damp rag, gently wiping the sweat from her face and neck. It felt like heaven against her flushed skin. He set a can of ginger ale on the coffee table in front of her.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Kevin sat on the floor, leaning against the couch. There wasn't room enough for both of them with the baby. Silence set in for a moment, and he gently took her hand in his. He watched her with heavy, sad expectation. "You don't like pancakes anymore." It sounded like a statement, but it was laced with questions.

Alexis took another deep breath and shook her head, a traitorous tear slipping down her face. Kevin caught it with his thumb.

"You made pancakes that morning—chocolate chip ones. Do you remember?"

Kevin's eyes widened, and she knew he remembered.

 _When I'm a famous doctor, I'm going to keep you in the kitchen all day—like a breakfast food-making trophy husband._

 _I like the sound of that someday._

His eyes flickered down to her chest, stopping momentarily at the scar tissue that peeked out from the neckline of her dress. He understood. He understood all too well. "I'm sorry. I didn't know—"

She squeezed his hand. "It's okay. It's not your fault."

He didn't respond for a while, and Alexis slowly sat up. She took a swig of the ginger ale. Her hand rested against her stomach; their daughter was doing cartwheels, either because it was her most active time of the day or because Alexis' system had been shellshocked. It was the strangest thing, feeling a tiny human being move around inside you. Alexis knew she'd miss it terribly when the baby was born.

Kevin's hand rested on hers. "Omelets?" he asked.

"Please."

* * *

"How's it taste?"

"Delicious," Alexis answered with a smile. "Little Charlotte loves your omelets. I swear they're the only thing she has always let me eat."

They sat on the balcony, the late September air just the right temperature for an outdoor brunch.

"Charlotte, huh? You think that's the winner?"

"Do you have something else in mind?"

Kevin took a bite of egg, chewing thoughtfully. "What about Roisin?"

"Ro-what?"

"Roisin."

"Roisin," Alexis tested it out on her tongue. "What's it mean?"

"Little rose," he said with a smile. "It'd be perfect for a redheaded girl."

"Brown hair is a dominant trait," Alexis reminded him.

"And you come from a long line of redheads."

"Or maybe she'll be blonde like Brigid."

Kevin didn't even blink at the casual mention of his sister. "Did I ever tell you I had red hair as a child?"

"What?"

"It got darker as I got older, but I was a little ginger kid. Red hair, freckles, the whole nine."

Alexis laughed. "Oh no. She doesn't stand a chance."

"See? Roisin is a good choice. We can call her 'Rosie' for short."

Alexis' heart skipped a beat at the name, and she felt that familiar flutter in her belly. She took a bite of her omelet, a small smile tugging at her lips. "We'll see."

* * *

"Castle, you have to calm down."

"How am I supposed to stay calm, Kate? Alexis has been missing for six months and—"

"I know how long she's been gone, Rick, but screaming at and threatening our only informant is not going to help us find her."

"He was lying!" Her husband's voice echoed in the small observation room.

"You don't know that."

"He recognized Ryan when we showed him the photo. I could see it in his face."

Kate crossed her arms. "So why would he give up one of them, but not the other?"

"It's not a coincidence that Alexis goes missing and then Ryan comes back from the dead. He's involved in this, and I'm going to find out why." Rick slammed the door behind him, heading straight to the elevator.

Kate sighed, resting her hand against the glass barrier, watching their informant sit, stone-faced, waiting for another round of interrogation. It wasn't looking good. Not for Alexis, and not for the newly discovered Ryan. Alexis' abductor had been identified as Devin Sloane, a street boss for an Irish crime syndicate. Their witness, Joe Connolly, had been picked up by Hunt. Whatever the operative had said to the low-level criminal, Connolly had been frightened into cooperating. He'd given them Sloane, and he'd promised to cooperate if the feds could get him immunity, maybe even witness protection.

But he wouldn't give up Ryan. Connolly insisted that he'd never seen Kate's formed partner in his life. She didn't believe him, but if the fear of giving up Ryan was more powerful than whatever Hunt had done to him, Kate knew she'd have to follow the leads the old fashioned way. There would be no shortcuts.

Hunt was still looking, as far as they all knew. The operative had checked in only twice since Castle had made contact. By that point, Alexis' face had been plastered over the news for so long that Hunt already knew and was looking into her disappearance. The first time Hunt had checked in, he'd shared the photo that had led them down their latest rabbit hole. The second time he'd brought them Connolly, who had required medical treatment after "accidentally" breaking all the fingers in his left hand.

The investigation was wearing on Kate in more ways than one. She didn't abide by torture, and she knew that involving Hunt could wreck their entire investigation. Ever since Hunt had shared that photo, Castle had been on the edge of insanity—they all had. Esposito was staunchly defending his former partner, saying that Ryan must be there as part of some undercover operation. Castle vacillated between happiness at finding his long-lost friend, and dark, twisted conspiracies that went back to the night Alexis was stabbed in the warehouse.

They had even questioned Jenny, hoping that she could shed some light on her ex-husband's involvement in Alexis' abduction. Jenny had never seen Sloane before, and she had no idea why Kevin would be shaking his hand. She'd thought he'd been killed. The only new information she had to offer was that for the last three and a half years, like clockwork, someone had been putting flowers on Sarah Grace's grave. The flowers were never the same, but they were there every week. It had to be Kevin, and they'd been monitoring the cemetery ever since Jenny's revelation, hoping to catch him in the act.

Their best chances to find out what was going on, to find Alexis, were either catching a notorious criminal or interrupting a grieving father. Kate hoped it would be the former.

Esposito burst into the room, wildly waving a small stack of paperwork in front of her.

"You'll never believe this."

"What is it?"

"I was looking into Ryan's background to see if we'd missed anything that could connect him to Sloane."

"And?"

"Nothing so far."

"So what's the matter?"

"I started looking into his parents' backgrounds. They're not real."

"What?"

"Kev's parents. They're fake. Fake names, fake social security numbers. Alan and Julia Ryan never existed."

Cold, hard realization set in. "Son of a bitch," she whispered. Ever dark fear she'd carefully ignored since finding out about the photo was staring her in the face.

"Beckett, I don't think we know who Ryan really is."

* * *

Of all the people Brigid Nolan expected to find on her doorstep at four in the morning in mid-October, her older brother had not been one of them.

"Kevin?"

"Can I come in?"

She blinked at him for several seconds. "Okay."

He brushed past her, nervous energy escaping with every movement. "How have you been?" he asked when she shut the door behind him.

Brigid had seen him only once in the last four months. They'd crossed paths while he was paying a visit to Nolan. He'd nodded at her as he walked out of the brownstone. That was it. She'd known his anger and distrust had run deep after all the secrets she'd been keeping, but Brigid had never expected him to be silent for so long. "Is Alexis okay?" she asked. Even if, by some miracle, her brother had forgiven her, he wouldn't be stopping by at that hour for a social call.

"She's good. You're going to have a niece, by the way."

A smile spread over her face. "You're okay with that?" Brigid knew how much baggage Kevin had tied up in the idea of having another daughter.

Kevin nodded. "I am."

"Third trimester, right?"

"You've been keeping up?"

Brigid shrugged. "I do what I can to stay up-to-date on the people I care about."

"Well, that's why I'm here."

And there it was—the real reason he'd come to her place. "You want me to come back."

"Something's off about Sloane lately, and I can't put my finger on it, but it makes me uneasy to leave Alexis alone."

"Sloane's bound to get crazier as Nolan gets closer to the grave. He's probably chomping at the bit to take over."

Kevin nodded. "I know. We don't have much time left. She's ten weeks away from full term—"

"And Nolan's got a couple more months at most."

"The apartment is well protected, but if Sloane or one of his lackeys can get in, she's defenseless. Brigid," his eyes took on a crazed quality, "I can't let anything happen to her."

Brigid sighed. The whole thing was ready to blow up in their faces. "I can't be there all the time without arousing suspicion, but I'll do what I can."

Kevin nodded, seeming relieved. "Thank you."

"What are little sisters for?" she said with a small smile. To her surprise, Kevin's arms wrapped tight around her. After a moment, she hugged him back. "I've missed you, _deartháir_."

"I missed you too."

Not much later, Kevin left, returning home to the most important people in his world. Brigid smiled, thinking of how far her brother had come in the past several months. She was happy for him. After years of heartache, he finally seemed to get getting a taste of the joy he truly deserved.

Brigid climbed back into her bed, wrapping her arm around her bedmate's waist and pressing her cheek against the back of his neck. Liam was the heaviest sleeper she'd ever known, thank God. Her middle of the night reconciliation would have gone very differently if her brother and her fiance had come face to face.

"I love you," she whispered to him, content with the silence that answered. The simple rise and fall of his chest was enough. Brigid had learned to be happy with stolen moments and simple pleasures, and she knew her brother was right to be afraid of the change that was coming.

Happiness was a fragile thing—fragile as a beating heart. Neither one of them took much to break.

* * *

Author's Note: So many plot threads, so little time. I really hope you guys enjoyed this, and I'd love to hear your thoughts. Please review!

Be sure to check back Friday for the first chapter of _Partnered,_ a brand-new Rylexis story written by yours truly and the amazing JJS4.

Here's the synopsis: "After his partner is taken off active duty, Kevin Ryan is stuck with rookie detective Alexis Castle. He thinks she's a spoiled brat, and she's not very impressed with him either. When a near-fatal mistake causes their work and personal lives to collide, Kevin and Alexis discover that first impressions are often deceiving. Inspired by 'The Time of Our Lives.'"

Next time: Tensions rise as Kevin and Alexis' time starts to run out.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Fifteen

"The secrets that you hide control us and it's just not fair." —Skylar Grey, "I Know You"

* * *

The upside to being a stay-at-home captive was that you could sleep late every day and no one cared.

It was almost noon by the time Alexis rolled out of bed. Kevin had already left to God knows where, and if it wasn't for the gnawing hunger, she would have rearranged her nest of pillows and slept for another few hours. The third trimester of her pregnancy wasn't anything to write home about. Alexis felt gigantic. She'd officially reached the stage in which she couldn't see her toes or shave her legs.

She was also terribly boring. When she wasn't thinking about how she should have her own zip code, she was sleeping. Almost all of her waking hour energy was reserved for Kevin and her now-weekly OB visits.

Alexis sleepily stumbled to the kitchen, digging through the fridge for a bottle of water and then grabbing a box of cereal out of the pantry. She shoveled a handful of dry cereal into her mouth. She'd stopped having coffee a few weeks earlier after it had triggered Braxton Hicks contractions. She knew that those particular contractions were just part of being pregnant—there was no real harm there—but she didn't want to chance it. The baby could survive, technically, without Alexis, but there were still too many unknown and unpredictable variables at work. It was best to keep the baby inside as long as possible.

"Good morning, sunshine," a chipper voice greeted from the sitting room.

Alexis found Brigid on the couch with a pair of knitting needles and a large, misshapen lump of yarn.

"Morning," Alexis mumbled. Brigid had been coming by regularly for the last week or so, and Alexis was glad to have another person to talk to. It was lonely with Kevin gone so much, though she knew he tried to spend as much time with her as possible. "What are you making?"

"Well, I wanted to make a hat for Little Brigid, but I think I messed it up. Would you like a hat, Alexis?"

The redhead eyed the misshapen lump skeptically. That particular attempt would never be a hat. "Keep at it. I'm sure it'll turn into something eventually. Little Brigid can never have enough burp rags."

"So you're warming up to the name?" the blonde asked with a soft smile.

Alexis lay back on the couch, almost breathless from the simple action and the weight across her belly. "You know Kev's got his heart set on another name."

"Rosie Ryan?" Brigid laughed. "Sounds like an Irish superhero."

"Rosie Harper," Alexis corrected, hiding a grin. "We're not married, and Rosie Castle is just as bad."

"You're not married _yet_. Give it time."

Alexis didn't answer. As far as she knew, marriage was off the table. Sure, if things were different she would love to marry her child's father. She did love him, after all, but things weren't different. They were as fucked up as they'd ever been.

She'd taken on the mantra of dealing with her reality one day at a time. That was all she had the energy for, and any other method just drove her insane. The downside to that was that it was impossible to plan for any kind of future when you were barely surviving the present.

"I'm sorry, Alexis." Brigid must have noticed her forlorn expression. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine." She shoved another handful of cereal into her mouth before asking, "What's up with your wedding plans? Shouldn't you have gotten married months ago?"

Brigid looked at her friend warily. "It's been delayed."

"Why?"

"Well, ever since you went missing, Liam and I have both been working overtime. There just hasn't been time for a wedding."

"Oh." Alexis hadn't expected that response, but it made sense, when she thought about it.

After a beat of silence, Brigid spoke up again. "Honestly, I'm not sure if there ever will be a wedding."

"Because you're lying to him?"

The blonde sighed. "I don't think I ever expected things to last as long as they have."

"But you really love him?"

"I do. More than anything. I know it sounds like complete bullshit, but I feel more like myself when I'm with him. The life I had before—" she cut herself off. "Brigid Nolan never got to experience anything like real love. But Lilian Murphy—she has a life. A future. All the things I never thought I'd have."

Alexis ate another handful of cereal, pondering on the blonde's words. Months earlier, before she'd truly come to know about Kevin and Brigid's lives, Alexis had judged Brigid for lying. But hadn't Kevin done the exact same thing? He'd lied about who he really was so he could have a real chance at happiness. And for fifteen years, it had worked. After months of hiding away, learning that things were quite as black and white as she'd always thought, Alexis wasn't nearly as critical about Brigid's choices. "So why don't you tell him the truth?"

"Besides the fact that he'd leave me? I'd probably get arrested and go to prison. Besides, if Liam knew about my connection to Kevin and you, well, this elaborately fucked up house of cards will come crashing down on our heads."

Alexis didn't respond. She didn't like thinking about how fragile their current circumstances were—how easily things could fall apart. Alexis glanced up when the knitting needles stopped and Brigid took her hand.

"I know Liam's your friend, but I want to thank you for giving me a chance. I know I've made a lot of mistakes along the way..." Brigid sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell Kevin you had survived. I keep wondering how much of this could have been avoided if he'd known sooner."

Alexis had wondered the exact same thing countless times, but that was something else she didn't like to waste energy on. There was no telling what would have happened if Kevin had known sooner that she was alive or how Alexis would have responded to Kevin's secret in a different sequence of events.

She'd tried to imagine how different things could have been. There was a good chance that she would have reviled him for his past, that she wouldn't have been able to forgive him for his deception or the crimes he'd committed since returning to Nolan's syndicate. She and Kevin probably wouldn't be together. She probably wouldn't have gotten pregnant. Alexis pressed her hand against her belly, feeling the baby move. Among all of the unknown variables, one thing was certain: Alexis couldn't imagine—didn't want to imagine—a life without her daughter.

She squeezed Brigid's hand. "Everything happened the way it was supposed to, and I don't begrudge you for trying to do what you thought was right."

Brigid's smile looked forced. "I wish Kev felt the same way."

"You're the only person in the world who truly understands what life has been like for him. He loves you. He'll forgive you."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

A comfortable silence set in between the two women as Brigid continued her knitted creation and Alexis ate dried cereal, occasionally tapping her fingertips against her belly.

Alexis bit her lip, then said, "I'm worried for him. He's exhausting himself. Every time he leaves I'm terrified he's not going to come back."

The knitting needles stopped, and Alexis saw the same fear in her friend's eyes. Brigid looked back down at her hands. "Nothing lasts forever. For better or worse, things will change."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Far too soon, Brigid had to leave. Unlike Alexis, she had responsibilities that required her attention. The blonde hugged her friend and promised she'd stop by the next day.

As she rode the elevator down to the parking garage, Brigid thought about their conversation. A change was coming, whether it was in the form of a new baby, a new leader in the syndicate, or a combination of the two. Soon she'd be able to tell Liam the truth without endangering her brother or his new family. Brigid didn't know how to feel about that.

She stepped off the elevator, heading to her car. A cold voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Hey, Blondie."

* * *

Kevin wanted to break something.

He was sitting in his parked car in the underground lot of his building—the same place he'd been for nearly fifteen minutes. He should be inside his home, spending time with Alexis, but he didn't want to be around her when he was so agitated.

He was exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. He was tired of hurting people. He was tired of his miserable excuse for a life. None of this was how he wanted it to happen.

With a sigh, he pushed himself out of his car and walked to the elevator. It was well past one in the morning, but Alexis would probably still be up waiting for him. He hated that this was how their relationship worked. That he saw her in stolen moments during the darkest hours of the night.

The elevator doors opened in front of him, and he stepped into the apartment. Alexis was sitting on the couch, practicing sutures on a banana. She hadn't noticed him yet. As she'd gotten progressively more pregnant, it had become more and more important to her to not let her years of schooling and experience fade away. She seemed to spend most of her waking free time reading autopsy reports or physiology books that Kevin had procured for her or, as was the case that night, practicing her surgical skills.

For a moment, Kevin just watched her work. Her skin was glowing, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear after securing a tiny knot in the stitching. God, he loved her so much. She deserved so much better than this. So much better than him.

Watching her made him realize what a bitch fate could really be. There she was, in front of him, 31 weeks pregnant with his child, another daughter. He got to wake up with her and go to sleep with her at night. She cared for him, and though she hadn't actually said those three little words, he knew she had found some way to be happy with him, despite everything she'd had to give up along the way. It was everything he'd ever dreamed of having, transplanted into the worst of circumstances.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked, breaking his depressing train of thought.

Kevin wasn't sure how much to tell her. Should he say that he was furious for the cards they'd been dealt? He should be grateful. He knew that people like him didn't get second chances, and for the most part he _was_ grateful. He just wished their second chance didn't have an expiration date.

Kevin wasn't stupid. He knew that things as they had been for the past several months were coming to an end. Nolan was getting weaker every day and Sloane's position in the syndicate was getting stronger. Kevin couldn't ask Alexis to stay locked up forever, and his choices in the real world were limited. People like him didn't get to live happily ever after.

"You're amazing," he said simply.

"So are you."

That was bullshit. He wasn't amazing—not in the least. He was a killer, a liar, criminal without a future. Kevin kneeled in front of her, resting his hand against her belly. The baby was getting bigger. Every now and then, when she was feeling particularly feisty, Kevin could see the outline of a foot or an elbow pressing against Alexis' skin. It scared him how much he loved his unborn daughter, his little rose, though he hadn't met her yet.

After losing Sarah Grace, Kevin couldn't imagine ever wanting or loving another child as much as he'd loved her. But the moment he'd felt his and Alexis' baby moving underneath his fingertips, his heart had made room. He couldn't wait to see her, to hold her, to watch her grow. It was stupid and dangerous to hope for those things; people like him didn't get to raise a family. But that didn't stop him from wanting it.

"I think she's sleeping," Alexis said. "She doesn't usually move much around this time."

Kevin nodded, glancing up at Alexis' tired eyes. "You should be sleeping, too. You need to rest."

"I rest plenty. I'm not going to miss a chance to see you."

Her casual reference to their fucked up arrangement broke his heart. This was it. This was all they had. He glanced up at her. "You deserve so much more than this. You both do."

She frowned, then glanced down at her belly. Her fingers entwined with his. "We all do." Her hand slid up his arm and gently cupped his face. "What's the matter?"

He shook his head.

"Kevin, tell me."

He breathed raggedly. "I'm so tired of this. And I'm so pissed off that this is the best we get."

"Kevin—"

"I love you. I want to marry you. I want to have a family and future with you. And the way things are… it's some sick, twisted joke. I hate this, Alexis. I hate that I have no control over my own life. I hate that the best thing I can do to protect the woman I love is to make her give everything up and hide her away from everyone she loves."

He eyes were wide. "It's not over yet. We can still have a future."

"Can we?"

"Yes."

"How can you believe that?"

She sighed. "Because I have to. I have to believe that this isn't the best we'll get. I have to believe that this is only the beginning—that the future we both want is still within reach."

He broke away from her embrace. "How can you even want to be with me? How can you have any happiness with me after what I've done to you?"

"You're trying to protect me, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I've locked you up to do it. You can't tell me you don't resent me for that."

She glanced away and didn't respond, and he knew it was because she'd be lying if she said she didn't resent him. Finally, she looked back up at him. "What do you want me to say, Kevin?"

"Nothing," he quickly assured her. "I just… I just wish things were different. I love you, and I love our baby, and I'm so happy to have you back in my life, but I—"

"You're afraid it's not going to last," Alexis said.

"Terrified."

Alexis didn't respond. Instead, she stroked his cheek, then pressed her lips against his. She pulled back, looking into his eyes, then kissed him again, her tongue tracing his lips, seeking refuge against his. Kevin couldn't hold back as emotion poured out of him. His fingers entwined in her hair as he lost himself in the taste of her. Alexis slowly moved to her feet, never breaking away from his touch, and they stumbled to their bedroom. Once inside, she pushed him onto the bed and lay on her side next to him, continuing the kiss. Finally, she broke away.

"When are you going to show me how all those goodies in your drawer work?"

He froze. Surely he hadn't heard her correctly. "You want that?"

"I want you," she said. "All of you."

She watched him earnestly without a trace of fear or uncertainty. She really did want that. Kevin had meant it when he'd said that his sexual preferences began and ended with Alexis. He truly didn't need anything in his bed besides her, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't excited by the thought of trying something new with her. Their lives were complicated and dangerous, and often the only thing that grounded them was the physical reassurance that they weren't alone. His heart expanded as he looked at her, loving and appreciating that she was trying to distract him from all the problems that neither one of them knew how to solve.

Kevin kissed Alexis' neck just below her ear. "You have me," Before she could respond, he reached into the bedside table, pulling out a long strip of the soft, black fabric. He gently brushed his lips over hers. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

She kissed him back in reply. The kiss grew heated, and Kevin's fingers made quick work of her pajamas before covering her eyes with the fabric and knotting it on the back of her head. He gently pressed against her sternum.

"Lay back."

Slowly and somewhat clumsily, Alexis curled onto her side, her skin already warming against the cool bedsheets. It was difficult to lay comfortably on her back without an army of pillows. She'd never been blindfolded in bed before, and every noise and sensation made her heart race. She felt so vulnerable, lying completely naked on their bed—

Kevin's fingers slid up her arm, and she jumped at the contact. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he whispered. His weight lifted off the bed.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'll be right back. Just get comfortable."

The bedroom door softly opened and shut, and Alexis was left alone, excited and anxious at the thought of what might come next. She lay there, comfortable in the silence, for several minutes. It wasn't until a new weight dipped into the bed behind her, jolting her out of her doze, that she realized Kevin had come back in.

"Kevin?"

His fingertips slid down her bare side. "Hi, beautiful." A heady combination of jasmine and roses washed over her. She turned to him, but he held her in place. "Stay right where you are." His hands gently kneaded her neck and shoulders, working loose and knots he found. Every place he touched left her skin warm, almost burning for more. He loosened a knot in her lower back, and she sighed into his touch. This was not at all what she'd been expecting, but she was completely on board with the soothing, warm sensations moving over her body. His hands continued their path down her body, kneading her backside and thighs, and stopping at her calves. Ever since he'd found out that there was a pressure point in her feet that could induce labor, he'd stayed far away from them. Alexis had never been so relaxed, and she actually felt herself begin to doze off again.

"Roll on your back."

She sluggishly complied, surprised to find a pillow supporting her back, easing the discomfort of the weight pressing across her pelvis. Kevin's hands slid up her front, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. A small flame sputtered low in her belly, the warming oil and aromatherapy candles doing their work. Kevin's lips gently pressed against hers as he guided her arms over her head. He kissed her slowly, savoring the sensation. Something cool and soft wrapped around her wrists.

She heard the soft sound of a bottle being opened, and then his hands gently cupped her breasts. She moaned as the oil warmed her hardened nipples, sending sparks of pleasure straight to her core.

Kevin's hands continued downward, and her hips lifted off the bed when the pad of his finger brushed over that bundle of nerves. He repeated the action and she keened, her wrists tugging at the restraints. Kevin eased her legs apart, teasing her inner thighs with gentle caresses, and then Alexis cried out, bucking her hips off the bed when she felt his tongue dip inside her.

Between the blindfold and the oil, every sensation was magnified: Kevin's tongue lapping at her core, his fingertips teasing her thighs, the bedsheets brushing against her skin, the silk cloth confining her wrists. Kevin slid two fingers inside her, deftly stroking that perfect spot as his tongue teased her nerves, and she broke apart beneath him, whimpering his name, her hips bucking against his face and fingers.

Rather than stopping, Kevin's fingers worked her harder, faster, his lips closing over her nerves and alternately sucking and flicking them with his tongue. She screamed as another orgasm rushed through her, and it wasn't until she'd climaxed twice more that he stopped. By that time Alexis' voice was hoarse, and she was shaking, sweaty, almost sobbing from the pleasure overload.

Kevin's mouth plundered hers, tasting of strawberries and Alexis herself. Something hard, cloaked in fabric, pressed against her inner thigh. "You taste amazing," he breathed. "Every bit of you." His lips wrapped around her nipple, and she ground her hips against that hard length with a moan, already overcome with need.

She heard him groan, a soft curse slipping between his lips. He got off the bed, and she heard his sweatpants hit the floor. She expected him to hop right back in bed and finish what they'd started, but instead she felt a tugging at her wrists.

"Get on your knees," he ordered, helping her get up without her vision or the use of her hands.

Soon she was turned away from him, her wrists pulled above her head, her fingers wrapped around the bars of the wrought-iron bed frame.

"You look so sexy like this."

His fingertips trailed up her side, one arm wrapping around her hips beneath her belly, and the other laying across her chest, gently playing with her nipple. Alexis moaned, desire and heat making her want just one thing. Kevin's chest pressed against her sweat-slicked back, and he kissed the side of her neck. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." She was more than ready.

Kevin hands slid down to her hips, coaxing them outward, and he spread her legs a little further with his knee. "I love you." His hips lined up with hers, and stars burst in Alexis' eyes as he filled her in one stroke.

She moaned, her head falling back onto his shoulder, her fingers clutching the bars with a white-knuckle grip. Kevin pulled back, then thrust back in. Each stroke was punctuated with a breath of stillness, a half-second that he savored the feeling of Alexis wrapped tight around him before he pulled back and greeted her again. Pleasure knocked around inside her, making her breath escape in those punctuated puffs turned whimpers, each time the tiniest step closer to a release. Alexis began to rock her hips against his.

Without warning, Kevin bit down on her neck as he thrust into her and the entire world shuddered to a halt as slow-moving pleasure spread outward from her center. "Oh my—" She almost collapsed from the quiet, devastating power of it. And for a moment, the ties around her wrists were the only things holding her upright. Before she'd come back down, Kevin began to rock into her, lifting her to straddle his hips for deeper access. Alexis gripped onto the headboard, mewling helplessly.

"How does that feel?" he asked her, his breath ragged in her ear. She rocked her hips in time with his and they both moaned.

Something powerful was building in her base, tightening and coiling and ready to explode. Alexis managed to slip one hand free and then the other, leaning forward with one hand fisting the sheets and another flat against the headboard, offering resistance to Kevin's unforgiving thrusts. Each exhale was a cry, each inhale was never enough. Oh God she was so close—

"Holy fuck," Kevin moaned, and she felt him turn to hot steel inside her. He roughly yanked her up to him, his fingers tangled in her hair. His fingers stroked that bundles of nerves as his tongue dragged behind her ear.

"Come for me, sweetheart." His low voice and the pressure against her nerves twisted her stomach, and one ruthless thrust broke her wide open. White-hot pleasure flooded her synapses, sending her spiraling among the stars. Her eyes rolled back into her head; her crazed body went slack in Kevin's arms. Floating among the starlight, Alexis dimly felt Kevin crumble against her as he found his release, and she embraced the cool, soft bedsheets, barely aware of him rolling her onto her side and tugging the blindfold off.

"Alexis? Baby, look at me."

She blinked a few times, candlelight filled the room, washing everything in its soft glow. Kevin fingers pressed against her flushed cheekbones. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

A smile pull at her lips, and with clumsy, heavy limbs she pulled his face down to kiss him. "We should have started with that."

* * *

Alexis awoke to Kevin tossing and turning in bed next to her. She turned on the bedside lamp before facing him. Sweat had broken out on his skin, and he moved restlessly, mumbling in his sleep. His expression was pained. She watched him for a moment, her heart sinking. The nightmares had been increasing in frequency over the last few weeks. She hated watching him suffer, watching him exhaust himself on a daily basis, even when he slept. He'd never needed a good night's sleep more.

"Kevin," she said quietly, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up."

He shot upright with a gasp, his wide, disoriented eyes landed on her; his chest was heaving.

"Kevin?"

Tears slipped from his eyes, and his hands slid over her face, entwining in her hair. Before she could move, he sealed his mouth over hers, kissing her urgently. Over and over again, he pressed his mouth against hers, eventually slipping his tongue between her lips. His teeth tugged at her bottom lip, demanding her participation. Alexis gasped and tried to pull back, but his hand slid through her hair, holding her head in place. His other hand slid up her thigh, bunching up her nightgown as he went. She shivered at his touch and desire curled in the pit of her stomach.

Alexis managed to wrench herself away from his grasp. "Kevin?" she whispered as she pulled back. "What's the matter?"

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, pressing a line of kisses against her skin.

She grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back. "Talk to me." He wouldn't look in her eyes, so she gently forced his chin up and stroked his hair. "Tell me what's wrong."

His eyes flicked up to hers for just a moment, betraying the crazed emotions inside. Alexis' heart broke for him. "Kevin—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

His clipped tone took her by surprise. Alexis shook her head. "Let me help you." She stroked his hair again, doing everything she could to calm him. "I know things have been difficult, but you're not alone. It's going to be okay. I'm here for y—"

"Just stop it!" he snapped, his voice shattering the comfortable quiet of the night. He jerked away from her touch. "I'm not a child, Alexis. And I don't appreciate being treated like one."

What the hell was he talking about? "I'm not—"

"Yes, you are. I don't want hear you sugarcoat things to make me feel better."

"I'm telling the truth," she insisted. "I really do believe that everything will be okay."

Kevin huffed. "Then you're the one who's acting like a child."

"What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem? My problem is that my life is shit, and I'm tired of pretending otherwise." He threw the comforter aside, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and stomping over to his closet.

Alexis didn't know how to respond to this angry, belligerent Kevin. He was her rock, her comfort and security whenever she was overwhelmed by their situation. She'd never seen him this way. Confusion and hurt warred with anger, pressing in on her chest. "It's not all bad," she began.

He emerged from the closet, tugging a sweatshirt over his head. "How is any of this good?" he demanded. "How is any of this even okay?"

"We're together," she said softly. "We have each other. We have the baby."

For a moment, his gaze softened. He exhaled raggedly, rubbing the back of his neck. Alexis decided to test her luck. She slowly stepped closer to him. "Kevin, what did you dream about?"

That haunted look returned to his eyes, and he shook his head. "Don't worry about it." He walked out of the bedroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," he said shortly. Moments later, he was gone.

Alexis stared at the elevator for a while after he'd gone. She'd never felt more trapped than in that moment, and tears slipped down her face. A cramping sensation moved across her abdomen, and she moved gingerly back to the bed. It wasn't overly painful, just another round of Braxton Hicks contractions. She curled up on Kevin's side of the bed, breathing deeply, trying hard not to cry.

She tried to keep it together. She tried to stay calm and collected and hopeful. With each passing day it was becoming more and more difficult to do so. Kevin was spiraling, she hadn't seen Brigid in almost a week, and every day Alexis grew closer to bringing a helpless, innocent baby into the world. She needed help. She and Kevin both needed help. Another round of contractions squeezed her abdomen, and she winced at the discomfort. The baby shifted around, likely waking up from her nap. Alexis rubbed her belly, breathing deeply and trying to relax. "Stay there, baby," she whispered. "We're not ready for you yet."

It took well over an hour for the contractions to subside, and Alexis was more than a little hurt that Kevin hadn't come back during that time. It wasn't fair that he got to just leave. She hadn't been outside the apartment in months, and even if she did leave, she carried the baby with her. It wasn't as if she could escape from or forget about their situation.

Her eyes landed on Kevin's cell phone. In his rush to get away from her, he'd left it behind. When Kevin had first brought her to his apartment, he'd been careful to keep his cell phone out of her reach. As time passed and Alexis grew to accept the danger her family would be in if they tried to rescue her, he'd become more lax. Now he trusted her to stay silent, to not engage with the life she'd been torn out of. In that moment, Alexis knew his trust in her had been misplaced.

With surprising speed, she sat up and kicked her feet over the side of the bed. She took the cell phone, turned it on, and hurried to the hallway so she could watch the elevator. Kevin would be furious with her for breaking the cardinal rule, but she didn't care. It wasn't up to him anymore.

Alexis dialed that all-too-familiar number, waiting with bated breath as it rang on the other end of the line.

The hum of the elevator broke through the silence of the apartment, and Alexis' heart sped up. She didn't have much time.

"Hello?"

Tears sprang to her eyes. She knew that voice; she'd known it for as long as she could remember. "Daddy?" her voice cracked.

The elevator doors slid open.

"Alexis?" her father gasped. "Baby, is that you?"

She barely hear his response. A primal, bone-deep fear had frozen her in place.

"Alexis? Can you hear me?"

Sloane stood at the threshold of the apartment. Blood stained his hands and clothes, and his face split into a grin when his gaze landed on Alexis.

 _"Alexis?!"_

The street boss stepped forward, looking her up and down. "Hello _cailín álainn, w_ hat a pleasant surprise."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, and please review. I'd love to hear your thoughts about the story and/or how it's unfolding.

Next time: Shit hits the fan... again.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Heart of Stone

by

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Sixteen

"Take me to the other side, 'cause my hands are as cold as ice." —Broods, "Medicine"

* * *

"Hello _cailín álainn,_ " Sloane grinned, taking in her distended belly. "What a pleasant surprise." He moved toward her, and Alexis stumbled back, dropping the cell phone on the carpet.

"Alexis?" her father's voice called through the phone. "Are you there? Say something!"

Fear pounded in her veins, and she broke into a run, Sloane's gleeful laugh only spurring her on faster. She slammed the bedroom door, locking it behind her, and backed away. She couldn't leave the apartment; she still didn't know the code to the elevator. Her safe haven had become a noose around her throat.

Another Braxton Hicks contraction ripped through her, and she groaned, hunching forward. Where was Kevin? Why wasn't he there to protect her? The bedroom door shuddered then swung open as Sloane kicked it in. She made a move for the terrace, but Sloane was faster. His fingers sank into her hair, yanking her backward against him as she screamed. His hand slapped over her mouth.

"Now, now," he soothed. "You don't want to wake the neighbors."

Alexis bit his hand in response, almost feral in her need to get away. Fight or flight. She heard him hiss in pain, and then she was flying forward onto the mattress. Pain shot up her arms and her back screamed as she caught herself. Bent over the side of the mattress, barely keeping the weight of her body off the baby, Alexis whimpered as the cramping in her abdomen increased. Before she could right herself, Sloane was right behind her, holding her in place by his unforgiving grip on her hair.

"Don't test me," he growled into her ear. "I won't spare you just because he was stupid enough to knock you up." His free hand slid up the back of her thigh, his fingers digging into her hipbone underneath her nightgown. "In fact, I'm still quite taken with you. Especially in this position."

Panic slipped down her spine. "K-Kevin will be back any minute," she tried, tears slipping down her face.

Sloane laughed, then nipped at the back of her neck. His breath was hot in her ear. "No, darling, he won't." His tongue traced the shell of her ear. "He's dead."

"No," she whispered.

"Afraid so. Last time I saw him he had more blood outside him than inside."

"I don't believe you."

He pulled her upright by her hair and shoved his cell phone in her face. "See for yourself."

Kevin— _her Kevin—_ still clad in his sweats, was sprawled out on his back in a puddle of blood, a dark, gaping hole in his chest. His blue eyes were open, staring off at some point that she couldn't see. Lifeless.

"Kevin…"

Tiny fractures pressed in on her mind, her heart, her soul, shattering as grief and horror rushed in. Alexis screamed, fighting against Sloane's hold, hysterical sobs ripping her chest in two.

He was gone.

Kevin was dead.

There wasn't enough air in the world to fill her grief-stricken lungs. Distantly, Alexis heard someone wailing, shrieking. A crack echoed through the room and the cries stopped. Her face burned, though she wasn't sure why. Sloane stood in front of her huddled form, his palm red. Had he hit her?

He brandished a needle in his other hand, and animal instinct broke through the smothering grief. Alexis backed away, clawing, biting, screaming, thrashing against the man's hold on her. Sloane's hands wrapped around her neck, and Alexis pulled at his grip as spots began to burst behind her eyes, each second an eternity of hypoxic torture. Something sharp pricked at her neck, and a familiar heaviness slid through her.

"No," she mumbled, grasping to stay conscious. She felt Sloane lift her limp body into his arms.

"Save your strength, baby. Your new life has just begun."

* * *

"Alexis?!" Rick cried into the phone. _"Alexis!"_

The line went dead. His panicked heart slipped into overdrive. "God dammit!" he cursed, slamming his fist down onto his desk. Kate was there in a heartbeat, taking his phone so he wouldn't destroy it and resting a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Castle, what did she say? Did she give any indication about her location?"

"She's gone," he whispered, tears filling his eyes. "My baby's gone. We had her. I heard her voice. She was on the line, Kate. She was there." He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop. For nearly seven months he'd fought every natural instinct that told him to panic, to mourn, to burn the entire world down—if only so she'd be easier to find. For the most part, he'd kept it together. For Kate and Johanna and his mother. For Alexis. How many days and nights and hours and seconds had he prayed, _desperately,_ to have some indication, one shred of indisputable proof, that she was alive? But to hear her voice, to hold a fragile connection to her in his hands only to have it ripped away—it was too much.

"What do you mean she's gone?"

"The line went dead." He drew in a ragged breath. "She sounded so scared, Kate. So tired. So hopeless." His wife guided him into his chair, and he promptly collapsed into it, shaking. He was simultaneously frozen by grief and so angry, so overcome with the need to do _something,_ that he couldn't think straight. Alexis had never sounded like that before. He wanted to scream, to tear down the walls, to find his daughter and absolutely destroy the people who had made her sound that way.

He glanced over at his wife, who was on her own phone with the FBI.

"How far can you narrow down the area?" she asked. A tiny, fragile spark of hope lit in Rick's chest. If they could get some clue to Alexis' whereabouts, he could find her. It didn't matter if he had to tear down every building in his way, brick by brick. He'd find her.

"Hold on," Kate said. "I've got to take this. Espo, what is it? Alexis called Castle and we're in the middle—" Her face paled, and her jaw dropped. After a beat, she collected herself. The sharp, borderline obsessive, tone in her voice made goosebumps rise on his skin. "Get CSU at the scene and Lanie, too. They can't miss a single piece of evidence. Find out everything you can from the paramedics and unis at the scene. We're on our way."

Rick's heart came to a full stop at the word "paramedic." Had they found Alexis? Was she hurt? Was she—

"What is it?" he demanded.

Kate shook her head, a sad and determined expression on her face. "They caught Ryan at the cemetery. He's been shot."

* * *

Whenever Kevin had considered how he might die, he'd imagined getting shot. It was a logical way for him to die, considering his line of work. Years before, he'd always imagined that he might get shot taking down a criminal. Much as he loved his blue kevlar vest, it didn't protect his head. One shot, and it'd be over. More recently, Kevin figured he'd end up murdered in a deal gone bad or in an act of revenge. He'd certainly made enemies on both sides of the line.

Kevin never expected to die sprawled out on his daughter's cold, marble headstone, with Devin Sloane of all people holding the smoking gun, grinning at him like the sick bastard he was. Kevin had never seen the man coming. Blood saturated his clothes, the inside of his lungs. Pain and shock rendered him helpless, barely able to blink, barely able to form a half-coherent thought for those precious seconds before he lost consciousness.

 _"Don't worry, friend. I'll take good care of your girl."_

Numbness enveloped him, and the world went dark.

* * *

Death was a funny thing—nothing like how he imagined. Instead of light and peace and quiet, there was heavy darkness and all around him voices echoing so loudly that they tore through every thread of consciousness. Memories followed right behind.

 _"I want you. All of you."_

 _"Dear Kevin..."_

 _"You were gone for three years!"_

 _"It would break their hearts to know what you've turned into."_

 _"How could you?"_

 _"Where have you been?_

 _"I can't believe you're here."_

 _"Kevin?"_

 _"...I would have said yes."_

If he had a body, if he was capable of releasing the cold, heavy, soul-gnawing grief inside him, he would have wept.

Frozen light burned through his nerve endings, and Kevin fell sideways into a new memory. He watched himself, dressed in sweats and shrouded by darkness, kneel in front of his daughter's grave. Frost kissed the grass around the headstone.

 _"You know what they say about walking around in a cemetery after dark." Sloane_ scuffed his boot over the headstone, and Kevin jerked backward like he'd felt the blow.

" _What do you want?"_

 _"Do you miss her?"_

" _Listen, I don't have time for your mind games so just say whatever you tracked me down to say."_

" _Nolan's dead._ _Lost a fight with a pillow."_ _Sloane casually removed his gun from the holster on his back. "You know, you never answered my question."_

A strange sense of finality settled over Kevin. " _What?"_

" _Do you miss her?"_

" _Of course I miss her." He gulped, staring down the barrel of the gun, knowing in his heart that there was no way out. This was it. He'd never see Alexis—_

"Give her my regards _."_ _Before Kevin could even blink, a crack echoed through his ears and blinding, smothering pain exploded in his chest. He was on the ground. When had he hit the ground? He felt nothing and everything all at once. He was so cold. So empty. Blood filled his mouth._

" _Don't worry. I'll take care of your girl."_

The memory faded, but the words echoed.

His girl.

Alexis.

That soft, almost melodic voice danced around him, laughing, smiling, teasing.

 _"Kevin?"_

 _"I'd like the sound of that someday."_

 _"I missed you."_

 _"I would have said yes."_

After everything they'd been through, after all he'd done to keep her safe. He'd failed. He'd failed her. He'd done nothing but hurt her, lie to her, leave her when she needed him the most. Alexis' life would have been so much better if he'd stayed away from the very beginning.

A shudder ripped through him, and a new image spilled across his consciousness.

 _Snow fell softly at his feet, coating the world around him. Amidst all of that perfect, untouched white was a shock of red. Two tiny snow boots crunched on the ground, and the tiny girl attached to them,_ _dressed from head-to-toe in a pink snow suit,_ _giggled as she fell backward into a mound that looked big enough to swallow her. Her high-pitched laughs chimed in the air._

 _"Rosie!"_

 _Alexis,_ his Alexis _, hurried past him with a smile, reaching down with gloved hands to pull their daughter to her feet. Rosie grinned at her mother, then made a big show of falling back into a fresh patch of snow, her small arms and legs fighting furiously against the four-inch snowpack._

 _"Mommy, look!" The child clumsily pulled herself to her feet, showing off her newest creation: a snow angel._

 _"It's beautiful, sweetheart," Alexis smiled, and lifted the little girl to rest on her hip. Rosie looked over Alexis' shoulder, and Kevin met her eyes. They looked just like Brigid's, just like his own. His daughter gave him a shy smile._

His consciousness was jerked backward, like cognitive whiplash, and the image disappeared. No! No! He wasn't done yet. He wasn't ready to leave them. He loved them. He loved them so much it hurt. So much he could still feel it in his cold, dead heart.

" _I'll take care of your girl."_

No. No, he couldn't die. He couldn't just give up. Not while Alexis needed him. Not while there was still an ounce of strength left somewhere inside him.

He had to keep going.

He had to live.

He wasn't done yet.

Light exploded around him, and Kevin jerked forward, coughing, wheezing, gagging against the metallic tang of blood and the plastic tube in his throat. Alexis. He had to get to her. He had to save her.

"Dope him."

Darkness slid into his veins, and Kevin fought to hold onto some semblance of conscious thought.

 _Alexis._

 _He had to save her._

 _He had to..._

 _He—_

* * *

Ice. The world around her was frozen as the blood in her veins.

The force of her shivering body pulled her into consciousness. Alexis blinked once, twice, then tried to sit up. Everything ached—her head, her back, her limbs. The world spun as she took in her surroundings.

She was laying on a cold cement floor, wearing her nightgown. Dim light shone through a small window near the ceiling. Was she in a basement? Besides the window, she was met with four walls and a door with no handle. It must only open from the outside. She sifted through her recent memories, unable to firmly grasp anything. The sensation was familiar somehow… She'd felt this way when Sloane—

Memories poured in faster than she could process them; her heart banged against her ribs, and she drew in ice-cold breaths, releasing small white puffs with each exhale. Over and over again she saw Kevin's lifeless eyes.

"No no no no no," she whimpered, drawing her arms around herself as tears cooled against her skin. "Kevin," she sobbed into her arms, curling ever tighter around herself as reality began to sink into her drug-hazed mind.

Their daughter would never meet her father. They would never get their happy ending. Everything they'd worked for over the last four and a half years, from that first Valentine's Day when he'd followed her home—it was all gone. Over. Kevin was gone. He'd been taken from her when they'd never been closer to having a future together.

She'd never told him she loved him.

Alexis cried harder, frozen air ripping in and out of her lungs as she keened like a wounded animal. How could she have withheld that from him? He'd given his life to protect her, and she'd never even said those three little words. She didn't want to imagine a future without him. She _couldn't_ imagine a future without him. Without his kindness and patience and infinite love. He'd been there, sleeping beside her some hours earlier. Once again, she'd lost him. And once again, grief and regret filled all the empty spaces in her mind, her heart.

The door slid open, and Alexis' tearstained eyes locked on a monster holding a blanket and a bottle of water in his arms.

"You're finally awake," Sloane said with a smile.

"Where am I?" Alexis demanded, wiping the tears from her face. Anger gave her a sick kind of strength. This was the man who had taken her future. Twice. He didn't deserve to see her tears. "What the hell do you want from me?"

His eyes took on a predatory quality. "I think it would be easier to say what I don't want from you, Miss Harper. Your attitude tops the list."

She shuddered at his gaze, turning her body away, and with two large strides, Sloane yanked her to her feet. Her head spun at the change in position, and she momentarily slumped against him, making him chuckle. "You're an eager one."

"Get away from me!" she screamed, trying to yank her arms out of his grasp..

His smile grew as he pinned her hands above her head with one large hand. His other hand slipped up her side then pressed against her distended stomach as he continued, "Though I feel like there's something between us."

"Don't touch her!"

"Ah, so it's a she. That's good news. If it had been a boy, I would have had to kill you both."

Alexis' only response was to dig her fingernails into the hand that pinned her.

"Oh, we are going to have so much fun." His fingertips skimmed up the side of one breast.

She was going to be sick. The world spun again, from the drugs or her own revulsion, she wasn't sure. "Why are you doing this?" she asked weakly, traitorous tears slipping down her face.

"Because you belong to me." His fingertip pressed against the top of the scar on her chest, following its trail between her breasts. "Do you remember when I marked you?"

Fearful sobs shook her frame. She remembered it all too well.

"I never expected you to survive," he continued, his fingers stroking her skin and the raised scar tissue above her neckline. "But the woman you've turned into… Well, you're very tempting." His thumb dragged over her dry, cracked lips. "I've often wondered what that beautiful mouth would look like wrapped around me."

She visibly shuddered at the thought, tears slipping down her cheeks even faster. "Please."

"You don't like that? After I've been so generous?"

"How?" she asked, incredulous, seeking that familiar anger to ground herself.

"You get to keep your clothes."

Fear almost knocked the air out of her.

"I'm not unreasonable. We'll work our way up." He let go of her, and she slid down to the floor, her arms wrapped around herself.

"I've brought you some gifts," he said, holding up the blanket and the bottle of water. "And I only ask for one thing in return: ask nicely."

"What?"

"Manners, Miss Harper. Say 'Thank you, Devin. May I please have my gifts?'"

Alexis stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. "No. Never. You don't deserve gratitude or kindness."

"Come now, I know you're cold. I know you're dehydrated. That can't be good for the little one."

"I'm never going to beg you for anything!" she shrieked.

"Not even to keep your child warm?" he smiled. "Assuming she's still alive. I've never used that drug on a pregnant woman before."

A new kind of horror washed over her as his words settled in. Oh God. The baby hadn't moved once since Alexis had woken up.

"I'll let you think on that for a while. Enjoy your pride, Miss Harper, I hope it can keep you warm." Sloane closed the door, taking the water and blanket with him.

Alexis pressed against her abdomen until she was sure she felt a foot. The baby was just sleeping. She was just sleeping. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be—

"Baby," Alexis said, her voice cracking. "Wake up, baby. Wake up. Please wake up."

There was no response, and Alexis pressed harder, bruising her own skin. " _Rosie!_ " she wailed. "Rosie! _Wake up!_ "

Helpless sobs pressed over her, and Alexis curled up in the corner, running her hands back and forth over her stomach, tears and hiccups racking through her body as she whimpered out the mantra.

"Wake up. Please, wake up. Please, wake up..."

* * *

Author's Note: SO SORRY this took so long guys. Angst has a way of killing one's motivation. (Bet you never thought I'd say that, huh?) A million and a half thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and an extra special thanks to Loujohn and Rachel Beckett for the requests to update.

This is probably a no-brainer, but things are going to get pretty dark for the next couple chapters. Stick with me; there's light at the end of the tunnel, and I promise you won't have to wait as long for chapter seventeen.

Next time: The gang is back together, and Alexis must learn to survive her new captor.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Heart of Stone

by

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Seventeen

"I'm breaking down . . . Tell me there is hope for me." —Sia, "I'm In Here"

* * *

"You have to let him recover."

Kevin twitched at the familiar voice. He fought to open his heavy eyelids.

"He can recover after he gives us some answers!" another voice hissed.

He knew that voice, too. Slowly, excruciatingly, he forced his eyes open, and almost immediately shut them against the bright, disorienting light. A quiet, relentless pain smothered the left side of his chest, and he shifted uncomfortably. His wrists banged against unforgiving metal, and the sound seemed to echo around him.

"Ryan? Are you awake?"

That was Beckett.

"Wake up!" Something hard gripped at his shoulders, shaking him with enough force to rattle his bones. Kevin let out a weak yelp as the embers in his chest blazed to life. His eyes shot open again, and he watched as Beckett physically pulled Castle off of him. Kevin sank back into the bed with a pained breath.

"Do I need to have you removed?" she snapped at her husband. "You told me you could handle this."

"I can," he insisted, sullenly turning his eyes back on the man in the hospital bed. A sense of dread pressed in on Kevin at the look in Castle's eyes.

Beckett returned to her seat on the other side of the hospital bed. "Hi, Ryan. I'd say it's good to see you, but..."

"I get it," he croaked. "It's good to see you, too."

"Where is she?" Castle interrupted. "Where's my daughter?"

"Castle! Enough!"

"It's okay," Kevin said. He took a deep, ragged breath that sent a jolt down his side. "How long have I been out?"

"Two days."

He nodded, his heart sinking. He'd been out of commission for too long. Even with the protections on the apartment, the chances of Alexis still being there were slim-to-none. "She's either back at my apartment, or she's with a man named Devin Sloane." Just saying the words made him sick. He shuddered. "I tried to protect her—"

"Your apartment? She's been with you this whole time?" Castle asked, fury marring his features.

Kevin nodded.

"Where's your apartment?" Beckett asked.

He gave them his address. "That's the building the call was traced to," Castle said to Beckett.

"What call?"

The police captain bit her lip, clearly unsure how much to tell him.

"Please, Beckett. I care about her, too."

He heard the writer mutter something under his breath, and Beckett shot him a look.

"Two days ago, shortly before you were picked up, Alexis made contact with Castle. The line went dead before she could say much."

"And since you picked me up? There's been no other contact? No sign of her?"

Their silence was enough.

"Jesus," he muttered, shaking his head. This was a nightmare.

"Ryan, I don't think I need to tell you that this doesn't look good. The FBI's involved, and they're going to want to question you."

"That's fine. I'll do anything they want. We need to find Alexis."

"We?" Castle scoffed. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Castle—"

"There is no 'we.' At least not where you're involved. My daughter has been through enough because of you."

"You don't think I know that?" Kevin snapped. "I know I'm the bad guy here, okay? And I want to find her just as much as you do! I care about her, too! I love her, too!"

Castle made a move toward him, and Beckett was there in a heartbeat. "We're done here," she said to Castle, directing him to the door. She turned back to Kevin. "The doctor is going to come in and speak with you, and then the FBI will want to take their turn. In the mean time, I'd like to start searching your apartment."

Kevin knew that she wasn't making a request. She was simply informing him of her next move for old time's sake. "You know the address. The code to the elevator is 1008. If there's anything I can do to help..." He trailed off, swallowing thickly. He was living his worst nightmare. The love of his life and his unborn child were gone, taken by a madman, and Kevin was cuffed to a hospital bed, barely able to breathe around the pain in his body.

Beckett nodded tightly.

"There's something else you should know," Kevin said as Castle and Beckett made their way out of the room. They stopped, looking back at him. "It's um... about Alexis."

"What is it?" Castle demanded.

Kevin took a deep breath. "She's thirty-two weeks pregnant."

The words floated featherlight through the air, and Kevin saw the exact moment they made impact on the writer's overburdened shoulders.

"Son of bitch!"

Kevin didn't try to stop the first fist that flew at his face, nor the second one. When a screaming Beckett and two nurses managed to pull Castle off of Kevin's battered form, he welcomed not only the pain, but the darkness that followed.

* * *

In the cold half-darkness, time ceased to have much meaning. Alexis rocked herself back and forth in her small prison, begging the baby to move. It felt like years that she was huddled there, cold, hunger, dehydration, fear, and that overwhelming grief smothering her. Her eyes were half closed, her limbs were frozen in place, and over and over those same words spilled from her cracked, purple-blue lips.

"Wake up, Rosie. Please wake up."

Then, so soft and tentative that Alexis thought she'd imagined it, the baby moved. Alexis' tearless sobs sputtered in her chest. She was alive. Her baby was still alive. Rosie's movements were sluggish, but she was moving. Sloane hadn't killed her, too.

"Hi," Alexis whispered, her voice cracking. "Hi, sweetheart." She pressed her fingertips against Rosie's foot, relief and joy spreading through her when she pushed back. "I'm so happy you're awake." Protectiveness washed over Alexis—stronger than the fear, stronger than the grief. No matter what happened, she couldn't let anything happen to her child. She had to get out. She had to survive whatever horrors Sloane had in store—if not for her own sake, then for her daughter's.

After a while, those familiar cramping pains pushed across her abdomen. Alexis tensed, worried that she'd been forced into labor. But they never got worse; they just kept her awake with discomfort. Braxton Hicks were often triggered by dehydration, trauma, and just about everything she'd been experiencing. They weren't harmful in themselves, but they could put her into preterm labor if they went on long enough.

Alexis had to be smart. She couldn't focus on everything she'd lost, everything she stood to lose. She had to survive. Sooner or later, she'd have a chance to escape. Sooner or later, an opportunity would present itself. But if she never got herself out of that dingy basement, she'd probably die down there along with her unborn baby.

When Sloane returned an eternity later, Alexis was frozen to the bone, sick with hunger, the dull pain of her contractions keeping her from finding an escape in sleep. He looked unimpressed with the woman curled on the floor in front of him, especially when she shakily forced herself to her knees, her eyes locked on his shoes. He wanted submission, didn't he? It was time to swallow her pride.

"Th-thank you, Devin," she rasped, her throat like sandpaper from disuse and dehydration. Chills rendered her speech almost unintelligible. "M-may I p-please have my gift?" She kept her eyes on the floor, more out of exhaustion than anything else.

It seemed like forever that Sloane stood over her, but finally he crouched down and pulled her upright. The cement bit into her knees, and she really didn't have the strength to kneel with the baby's weight pulling her down, but he held her there, taking in her exhausted, malnourished features. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"I didn't think you'd break so quickly."

She didn't respond. He could think she was broken. That just helped her plan along.

"Please?" she whispered. He probably liked to hear her beg.

"Alright then." He yanked her to her feet, and she almost crumpled to the ground again. There was not an ounce of strength left in her entire body. Sloane scooped her up, carrying her bridal style out of her prison.

Fear bit at her hazy mind. "Where are w-we going? I thought—"

"You've been a good girl. Good girls deserve a reward."

Sloane brought her up to the main part of the house, a heated part of the house, and proceeded to treat her like spun glass. He helped her bathe, gently washing her skin and hair, and dressed her fresh pajamas that were soft against her bruised skin. Alexis didn't have the energy to fight him when he'd begun undressing her, and she was shocked when his eyes didn't linger on her bruised, naked form.

After that, he led her to a luxurious queen-sized bed and arranged the pillows until she was comfortable on the thousand-count sheets. He offered her a bowl of soup and a large glass of orange juice. Alexis had inhaled both. Once she was done, Sloane pulled the covers up around her and brushed a kiss over her forehead. "Good night, baby." He left her alone in her significantly upgraded accommodations, and Alexis tried to find some logic to the way he'd treated her. The state of her body and the click of the lock in the door were the only indications that she wasn't a treasure guest.

She'd expected brutality, and she'd gotten it in those first hours in his custody. What she hadn't expected was the gentleness. What was he doing? Trying to make her like him? That was impossible. He'd ruined her life in more ways than she could count, and yet there she was: freshly bathed, wearing warm, comfortable pajamas in one of the softest beds she'd ever slept in, her belly full for the first time in days.

If Alexis possessed the capacity to feel anything but hatred for her captor—hell, if her grief-stricken, shattered mind and depleted body had the capacity to feel anything, she might have been grateful to Sloane. But Alexis knew better. He was trying to manipulate her, trying to positively reinforce the submissiveness she'd shown him down in the basement.

Sloane wasn't being nice. He didn't have a change of heart, and he didn't give a shit about her health. He was training her—like a dog.

And if she wanted to survive, if she wanted her baby to survive, she had to make him believe it was working.

* * *

In the days and weeks and months that Rick had spent praying for a break on his daughter's case, he could never have imagined a more unbelievable sequence of events. After Kevin had re-stabilized following Rick's attack, the FBI had been ruthlessly questioning him, not only about the last three and a half years, but about his entire life. To keep the NYPD involved in the investigation, the interviews were recorded, and occasionally Kate was invited to sit in. Rick was completely blown away by what they'd discovered about the man they'd called Kevin Ryan. In a different set of circumstances, Rick would have wanted to write his former friend's life story, perhaps in a new book series. As it was, Rick could barely contain the frustration and grief and anger that churned inside him.

Kevin had lied to them about who he was. He'd disappeared for three years and had gotten Alexis pregnant. He'd been keeping her in his apartment for the last seven months in a misguided attempt to protect her, and his foolish choices had allowed a sociopath to kidnap her.

Rick rubbed his face, exhaling as he listened to the latest tape, which detailed Kevin's connection to Devin Sloane and possible places that he might have taken Alexis. It was looking grim. Kevin had identified Sloane as his shooter and the new leader of the crime syndicate that had been slowly taking over New York in the last few years. It was more than likely that Sloane had resources and safe houses that Kevin knew nothing about.

"If you let me out of here, I can help find her." Kevin's voice sounded desperate. "I know a lot of these guys in the syndicate. I can find Sloane, and I can bring Alexis home."

Ever since the first interrogation, Kevin had begged to help. Rick had to begrudgingly give Kevin credit in that regard. He'd been nothing but compliant. He'd offered to go back in wearing a wire, a tracking bracelet, anything to make the FBI comfortable with his involvement. They weren't budging. Of course, if Kevin had just been honest with them from the beginning, this situation might have been avoided completely.

Rick shuddered at the memory of the first interview. Kevin had hurriedly tried to tell them everything he knew about Alexis' potential whereabouts and instead the agent, a man named Neil Christofferson, had asked Kevin about the nature of his relationship with Alexis. Christofferson had bluntly asked if Kevin had raped her, assuming that Alexis' abduction was the result of a longterm obsession on Kevin's part. Beckett had sat in on that one; she'd been the one to calm Kevin down when he'd screamed at the agent. If he hadn't been cuffed to his hospital bed, Rick was certain Kevin would have tried to kill the agent. He'd never heard the Irishman so angry.

 _I'd never hurt her—ever! Stop wasting your time on these stupid fucking questions and find her, you worthless piece of shit!_

Rick couldn't help but agree with his former friend. The agent had been asking the wrong questions. After that disastrous first interview, a new agent had been assigned: Aaron Shields. Things had gone more smoothly since then, but they were all painfully aware of what each passing minute could cost them. Like a broken record, Kevin made sure to remind Shields with every interview that their time was limited.

"You know she's pregnant, right?" Kevin demanded. "She's thirty-three weeks now. You really think she's safe in her condition? You think he's going to just let her carry the baby full term?"

Rick was going to be a grandfather. Bittersweet didn't even begin to cover his feelings on that particular revelation.

"The FBI is out following Kevin's leads, along with some of our guys," Kate said quietly from her seat next to Rick as the recording continued. They were in her office at the precinct—the base of operations in the search for Alexis. Before they'd found Kevin's half-lifeless body in the cemetery a couple weeks earlier, Esposito could be found at the precinct with them. Since the truth had come out about his former partner, Javi had spent almost all of his time doing footwork, tracking down leads. He didn't want to listen to any more interviews, and Rick honestly couldn't blame him. Nothing was more painful than broken trust.

"They're too slow," he answered.

"They've got to keep a low profile."

"What if they did send Ryan out? If he knows the syndicate like he says he does—"

Kate shook her head. "He's not well enough yet. He was winded just walking to the bathroom. He'd be a liability if they sent him out now."

"Once he's stable, do you think they'll use him?"

"I don't know. They keep me in the loop on the case, but that's about it."

Rick had been with Beckett's team when they'd gone through Kevin's apartment. The writer had been expecting to find signs of abuse. Instead, the scene was almost domestic. Alexis' clothes shared space in Kevin's closet. Her toothbrush was next to his in the bathroom. They found long red hairs in their shared bed and photos from Kevin's life before his past had caught up with him. The fridge was stocked with Alexis' favorite foods and ultrasound photos were pinned to the metal door with magnets. Physiology texts and autopsy reports were stacked haphazardly around the apartment, and tucked between the pages of a pregnancy book on Kevin's side of the bed was a note in Alexis' handwriting.

 _Too tired to wait up. Wake me when you get home. I miss you._

Rick couldn't comprehend how, but it honestly seemed like his daughter had found some semblance of happiness while she'd been hidden away. She'd obviously been well taken care of. They'd gotten the medical chart from Alexis' under-the-table OB, whose questioning had been fruitless. As of her last appointment, both Alexis and her unborn baby girl were in perfect health. With every day that Alexis remained missing, it seemed less likely that she'd remain in good health. The signs of struggle in Kevin's apartment and the mostly empty syringe they'd found were a testament to that. Lanie was examining the drug to give them an idea of the possible complications it could cause to a pregnant woman. Needless to say, they were terrified of the results.

"You said your sister is part of the syndicate as well?" Shields continued.

"She's not a criminal. She was Nolan's nurse before Sloane killed him." Kevin was always so quick to defend his sister.

"Could we use her on the inside? Is she trustworthy?"

After a pause, Kevin answered. "Yes."

A tiny flame of hope lit inside Rick's chest.

"Call her. Leave the speaker on, please. If she asks about you, say that you're safe but keeping a low profile, and you need her help tracking down Alexis and Sloane."

Rick and Kate listened as Kevin dialed in the number, waiting as the phone rang.

"Hello?" A familiar male voice answered the phone.

"Can I speak to Brigid?" Kevin asked.

"You have the wrong number."

"No, I don't," Kevin insisted. "This is Brigid's phone number. Who's speaking?"

"This is Detective Liam Burke. Who the hell are you?"

"The fuck? Why do you have my sister's phone? I want to talk to her _now._ "

"This is my fiancee's phone number!" Liam snarled. "And she's not taking calls right now."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because she's in a coma, you sick son of a bitch!"

Rick and Kate stared at each other, wide eyed, then bolted for the exit, wordlessly heading back down to the hospital. It seemed the surprises weren't over yet.

* * *

"Good morning," a low voice rumbled.

Alexis jerked awake, sitting up in her bed, her heart pounding. Sloane sat on the edge of the bed, watching her with a small smile. She was still a little disoriented, and her eyes darted around the room. He'd caught her off guard on purpose, she was sure. Alexis moved to leave the warmth of her covers, but Sloane's hand on her blanket-covered thigh stopped her.

"No need to move, Miss Harper. How did you sleep? Have you enjoyed your days of rest?"

For just over a week, Alexis had been recovering from her time in the basement. She slept, ate, and spent her waking hours trying to plot her escape. She tried not to think about anything else, especially during Sloane's visits. For the most part, he'd left her alone. One of his lackeys usually brought her food, always ignoring her attempts to talk to them or ask for help. Those times when he'd come into her room to spend time with her were the worst. He hadn't hurt her again, but she was always waiting for that moment when he'd get tired of being nice.

"Yes, Devin." She paused, then added. "Thank you."

He stroked her hair. "You're welcome."

Alexis tried not to tense under his touch. He always seemed to want to touch her, whether it was stroking her hair or holding her hand or simply resting his large hand on her thigh while he spoke to her. She still wasn't comfortable with it.

His eyes fell to her distended stomach. Rosie was enjoying her usual morning exercise, and the movement was visible under the thin t-shirt that stretched over her abdomen. He pressed both of his large hands to her stomach, and Alexis almost jumped out of her skin. She hated it when he felt her baby. Her and Kevin's baby. It wasn't right for Sloane to be touching her when he'd killed her father. "Amazing," he said quietly.

Alexis kept her eyes low. She felt sick.

"Have you named her?"

She gritted her teeth. "Not yet," she lied. He didn't get to say her daughter's name.

"You want to keep her."

"Of course I do."

Sloane nodded. "Of course." Rosie seemed so fragile, sandwiched between those large hands. "I won't lie; I have no interest in watching you raise another man's bastard."

Fear poured into her so fast she forgot to breathe. "Please," she said, definitely not above begging when it came to her daughter. "Please don't hurt her. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't hurt her."

His empty, dark eyes locked on hers. "I thought you might say that."

"Please." A single tear escaped, running down her cheek. Sloane caught it with his thumb, then licked it off.

"You want to keep her? Fine."

Alexis slumped in relief. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Sloane's hand slipped through her hair, angling her face up to look at him. "Show me how grateful you are."

Her heart pounded in her ears. She was definitely going to be sick. "What do you want?"

"For starters, your beautiful mouth."

Sometime later, Sloane left her alone, grinning, a new spring in his step. Alexis barely made it to the en-suite bathroom before she vomited up everything inside her. She wiped her mouth and turned the shower on, the heat just short of scalding, before stripping down and stepping inside.

She slid down to the tile floor, her arms wrapped around herself as the water pelted her body. She'd never be clean enough. Tears streamed down her face, and she didn't try to hide or control them.

It was worth it, she told herself. Anything he made her do was worth it if her baby was safe.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. You guys rock and are my light in these dark, dark chapters. :) I'd love to hear what you think.

Next time: After receiving devastating news, Kevin begs to be let off the leash.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Eighteen

"Every plan is a tiny prayer to Father Time." —Death Cab for Cutie, "What Sarah Said"

* * *

Someone had bashed his baby sister's head in.

Probably the same someone who'd put a bullet through his chest. The same someone who at that moment held the two most important people in Kevin's world.

Anger didn't even begin to describe it. Fear and helplessness barely scratched the surface. Grief . . . Grief paled in comparison to the mammoth weight on his soul. If Kevin could crack his own chest open and scrape out his heart, cure himself of every feeling, he would.

He sat at Brigid's beside, holding her hand. Blood was caked underneath her fingernails, and tubes ran into her veins. Two of her fingers were immobilized in splints. Her other hand was trapped across her midsection in a cast. His other hand was cuffed to the wheelchair they'd used to deliver him to his sister's room in the ICU. What a pair they made. Misfits—the lone survivors of their burned down family tree.

Kevin stared at his shoes, listening to the cadence of the heart monitor and the hum of the ventilator. He breathed a little slower, rationing his breaths. He couldn't look at his sister, at the bloodied, broken pulp that Brigid had been turned into. Her hair wasn't blonde anymore. It was pink—stained by all the blood that had escaped her body.

He wished he could take her wounds, her pain, and give her his health, his cursed luckiness that forced him to survive while everyone around him died. Where had he been while she'd been brutalized? Working? Pouting about his sad, pathetic life? At least he had a life. At least he had a future.

Tears slipped down his face, landing on the cold linoleum as he recalled every unkind thing he'd ever said or done to her.

"Hey."

Kevin looked up at the familiar voice. Beckett stood next to him, her eyes troubled. She held out a tissue, and he took it.

"Thanks."

Kate pulled up a chair closer to her friend. "How is she?"

"Probably dying."

Her eyes widened, and Kevin swallowed thickly.

"The doctor said she was bleeding into her brain, probably for hours, before she was found. There's no telling when or if she'll wake up, or if she'll ever be a normal person again. I should have been there, Beckett—" He choked. "I should have saved her. She's my little sister..." A sob ripped up from his throat, and Beckett's arms wrapped around him. Kevin sank into the gesture, holding onto her with his one free hand.

"You can't save everyone, Kev," she whispered.

"I can't save anyone."

After a few moments, he pulled away, wiping at his face. "Any news?"

"We've got a lead on one of Sloane's men. A guy named Donovan."

Kevin nodded. "I know him. What did he say?"

She sighed. "He'd not talking, and we don't have anything to pin him with." Her words sped up at Kevin's aggravated expression. "We're watching him. It's only a matter of time before he slips up and gives something away."

"I can break him," Kevin insisted. "Tell the feds to let me off the leash, Beckett. I can get him to talk."

"I'm trying. You know they do everything in their own time."

"We don't have time!" he snapped. "It's been three weeks!"

"I know."

Kevin lowered his voice. "What about Hunt?"

"He's keeping his distance. The FBI can't know he's involved, or the entire investigation is at stake. All of Alexis' suffering will be for nothing if we can't use the evidence we've collected."

He exhaled raggedly. "I can't keep doing this, Kate. I can't keep waiting, watching while everyone I love is taken away."

"I know."

A tap at the door caught their attention. Javier stood in the doorway, looking grave. "Got the tox report from Lanie." The detective wouldn't make eye contact with his former partner.

Kate stood up. "I'll be right back."

"Tell me," Kevin said.

Javi shook his head at the exact moment that Kate said, "I don't think—"

"Tell me what it says, Esposito!" Kevin snapped, at wit's end. It was the first sentence he'd said to his former partner in years.

Javier nodded grimly. He licked his lips. "Lanie said the Sloane's drug is some kind of barbiturate, a heavy, super high-dose tranquilizer that depresses the central nervous system. She hasn't seen that particular kind of drug before, so it's custom made. Sloane probably has some drug contacts that you didn't know about."

"What are the side effects?"

"There's no documented—"

"What are the potential side effects then? What can this do to them?" Kevin demanded.

Javier sighed, for the first time looking genuinely sad for his former friend. "Regularly administered or give in high doses, that class of drug can cause addiction, delayed fetal development, fetal hemorrhage, depressed respiration, and death."

The fine thread holding his broken pieces together snapped. "Get the feds."

"Kevin, we're try—"

"I want to talk to Shields!" he snarled, standing up, yanking restlessly at the cuff connecting him the wheelchair. "Get him now!"

Beckett nodded to Javi, who left the room in search of the agent.

"I know this is difficult—"

"Does Castle know? Does he know what's going to happen to them?" Kevin demanded.

"We don't know anything for sure right now."

"I know that every minute they're with Sloane is another chance for him to kill them!"

"You don't think I know that?" Beckett screeched. "I love her, too, Kevin! We all love her, too. You're not the only one whose heart has been torn in half!"

"What's going on in here?" Shields stepped into the room, eyeing Kevin.

"Let me off the leash," Kevin insisted. "Let me find this son of a bitch. I'll break him. I'll get the information we need. You have to let me go."

"I don't _have_ to do anything."

"Did Esposito tell you about the tox report?"

"No."

" _They're going to die!_ " Kevin screamed. " _They're going to die while you sit on your ass and do nothing!_ "

Shields held his hands up. "You need to calm down."

"What do you want from me? I'll wear a wire. A tracking bracelet. I'll be your man on the inside. I'll get you whatever information you need! I'll do whatever you want! Just let me find them! _PLEASE!_ "

Shields stared at him for just a moment, and Kevin stared back, tears sliding down his face, never breaking eye contact.

"Fine."

Kevin was taken up short. "What?"

"What?" Beckett echoed.

"I assumed you were insincere from the beginning, but I'm willing to reconsider my previous opinion. If you can find Donovan, you can question him while wearing a wire and a camera, and after that we'll discuss your options." Shields stepped forward and unlocked the cuff on Kevin's wrist. "Come on. If time is as critical as you say it is, we need to get started right away."

Shields held out his hand, and after a beat, Kevin took it.

"It's about damn time."

* * *

Donovan was a creature of habit, and his favorite place in the entire world was a strip club over in Queens. The feds and the NYPD knew this, more than once, Donovan had been picked up at the club. Unfortunately, the man was as slippery as the pomade he slicked into his filthy, black hair, and unwinding with a lap dance wasn't illegal. There wasn't much that law enforcement could do besides watch him and wait for him to slip up. Kevin, on the other hand, had no such limitations.

Shields' instructions were simple: get the intel through whatever mean necessary and leave no trail to the FBI or the NYPD. The audio feed and button camera weren't terribly uncomfortable against his bandages. Kevin had been surprised when Shields had pressed the gun into his hand, fully loaded, telling him this was a test run and that the feds would be displeased if he killed someone.

 _"A test run?" Kevin had asked._

 _"I want to see if you're really as capable as your history implies."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"We'll talk more later. For now, think of this as an audition."_

It was then that Kevin realized the agent hadn't relented out of kindness, that there was more than just a hostage rescue in the FBI's purview. If he hadn't been so worried about Alexis and the baby, he might have felt betrayed. As it was, he didn't give two fucks about what the FBI's plans were. All that mattered was Alexis' safety.

Kevin sipped his glass of water on the rocks, watching as Donovan enjoyed the lap dance that Kevin had paid for. It didn't even occur to the dumbass to wonder or worry about who was sending drinks and beautiful women his way. Sloane sure knew how to pick them. He flagged down another scantily clad waitress. "My friend over in the corner needs a refill, and I'd like one, too." He handed her his water glass.

"Sure you don't want something stronger?" she asked, clearly confused by his order.

"Don't got the blood for it," Kevin answered honestly, slipping yet another twenty under the waistband of her skintight shorts. "Quickly, please."

She scurried away, and Kevin watched Donovan grind against the woman who was lavishing attention upon him. His face was flushed from his drinks and his desire. His eyes were glazed. After the next drink, he'd be ready for Kevin to question.

Kevin's fingers tapped impatiently against his glass as he downed the rest of his water. His chest ached, but he pushed that to the side. He'd be fine. Slowly and carefully, he approached his mark, jerking his head to the side when the woman on Donovan's lap looked up at him. She wasted no time leaving them alone, and Kevin took a seat next to Sloane's man.

"Donovan," Kevin greeted him.

The man's drink-dimmed eyes bugged out. "I thought you were dead!"

"Wishful thinking, huh?"

"No!" The man was quick to try to appease Kevin. "I told him not to—"

"Spare me. I'm not here to kill you. I just want to talk."

He ran a hand through his greasy black hair. "I, uh, I don't think I should be talking to you."

Kevin leaned forward with a smile, casually resting the barrel of his gun against the man's kneecap. "I'm not asking."

Donovan's face went white, and he gulped. "Alright."

To his credit, the man didn't scream or kick or even fight as Kevin guided him to the men's room. As soon as the door swung behind them, Donovan turned on him with gun in hand, and Kevin wasted no time yanking the man's wrist back. The bullet lodged in the mirror behind them, and Kevin yanked the man forward, slamming his face against the sink. The gun dropped to the floor, and Kevin kicked it away before slamming Donovan's face against the porcelain once more for good measure.

"Nice try," Kevin taunted, pushing him down to his hands and knees. Blood poured down the man's face, and he spat out a broken tooth onto the floor.

Donovan flinched when Kevin latched the door behind them, and immediately became apologetic. "I couldn't believe what Sloane did to you and Nolan. It's not right."

Kevin shrugged. "We're not exactly good men though, are we?" He pulled his gun out from his lower back, the click echoing around them. "Here's how this is going to go: I'm going to ask you a question. If you give me the answer I need, we can move on with our lives. If you try to lie to me, or if you don't give me the answer I need, well, you'll catch on."

"W-what do you want to know?" Donovan whimpered.

"I'm looking for someone. Someone your boss took from me."

"I-I don't know—"

A bullet embedded itself in the floor next to Donovan's head, and he shrieked, backing away.

"I told you not to lie to me," Kevin said, seemingly unconcerned with the other man's hysteria. "Now, let's try again. I'm looking for a pregnant woman. A redhead. Does that ring a bell?"

Donovan's eyes widened. "Sh-she's yours?"

"Where is she, Donovan?"

"I... Sloane would kill me if I told you."

"That's unfortunate. Because I'm going to kill you if you don't tell me where she is."

"You said—"

Another bullet found it's mark just short of the hysterical man's body. "I'm a liar," Kevin shrugged. "Now tell me where she is."

The man began to tremble.

"Come on, Donovan. You know I'm good for it. You know what I'm capable of."

"You should just cut your losses," he tried to bargain, his voice shaking with fear. "You don't want Sloane's leftovers."

Kevin froze, every limb in his body tensing with fury. He turned to the man. "What did you just say?"

"The last time I saw her she had her mouth on his—" He shrieked as Kevin put a bullet through his foot; blood splattered on the tile around them.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Donovan screeched.

Kevin cocked the gun, pointing it at Donovan's head. "I'll ask you once more. _Where is she_?"

"I can't—" he howled as Kevin put a bullet through his other foot, and he dragged his feet behind him, leaving angry red streaks on the floor as he tried to back away.

"Give it up, Donovan. I've got more bullets than you have limbs."

The man was openly sobbing. "Sloane... Sloane's keeping her in his safe house upstate. Near Liberty."

"Tell me exactly where," Kevin snarled, getting up in the man's face. "And if you lie to me, I'll make you beg for death."

The man began to sob out directions, which Kevin memorized. "Was that so difficult?" he spat, slamming the gun across the man's face, knocking him out cold.

Shields called his cell phone, and Kevin answered. "You heard that?" he asked.

"Yes. Now come back. We'll dispatch a team to the safe house."

"I'm going after them. Get your team up there," Kevin answered, ending the call and turning off the cell phone. He dug through Donovan's pockets until he found his car keys. The man probably wouldn't be driving for a while.

Kevin peeled out of the parking lot, tugging the camera and audio feed off of his skin and tossing them in the back seat. He sped through the city streets, Donovan's words echoing in his mind. If what he'd said was true, Kevin was already too late. He'd already failed to protect her when she'd needed it most.

He would never forgive himself.

* * *

The days had taken on a terrible routine for Alexis. She'd counted almost three weeks since Sloane had brought her upstairs. Since they'd struck their bargain—in return for letting her keep the baby, she had to do whatever he wanted—Alexis' days started and ended with taking care of Sloane's needs. He hadn't forced her into having sex with him yet. She wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but she was grateful to still hold onto at least one shred of her dignity. She suspected her pregnancy had something to do with his hesitance. While he had no qualms about demanding that she take care of him, he never attempted to reciprocate. As relieved as Alexis was to not be forced into having sex with him, as glad as she was that he left Rosie alone, she knew it couldn't last. It wasn't as easy to ignore a newborn's existence.

Alexis had to get away from him before that became an issue.

She stared at herself in the mirror. The dress Sloane had picked out barely covered her ass, and the low sloping bust and the empire waist made her belly less noticeable by showing off her cleavage. If she was in any other situation, she might have thought it was sexy. She would have worn it for Kevin—

No! She put her mental guard up before the grief could slam into her. She couldn't think about him. If she wanted to stay strong and not fall to pieces, she couldn't think about him. Her eyes were haunted with deep, dark circles clinging to them. The skin around her left eye was yellow-green from a healing bruise. Sloane's patience with her grief had run out some days earlier, when he'd caught her sobbing in the shower after their time together.

 _I'm so fucking tired of your tears!_

He'd given her a black eye and had locked her in the basement for the night. Alexis didn't mind the bruise, or the isolation. She'd take a night in the basement over sharing a bed with him. Still, she didn't cry anymore. Sooner or later, he'd realize that Alexis didn't really care what happened to her own body and would start taking his anger out on the one thing in her life she still did care about—her baby. She stared at her reflection, at her haunted eyes and swollen lips, at the fingerprint-shaped bruises on her neck, her arms, the upper part of her breasts. How had this happened? How had this become her reality?

She shook her head, trying to loosen the hopelessness in her mind. She had to focus. She couldn't mess this up. Alexis counted seconds in her head, listening to Sloane's massive form stomping around in the bedroom. The only upside to her new life, her new hellish routine, was that she now knew exactly what to expect and when to expect it.

A booming knock shook the closed bathroom door. "Baby, come to bed."

Sloane's words weren't quite as clipped as usual, and several syllables slid together. He'd be well into the bottle by now, another part of his routine. Every night for the past twelve days, while Alexis showered and prepared for bed, he indulged in expensive whiskey. More often than not, he'd gotten totally intoxicated. She suspected he considered her thoroughly broken; it wasn't as much of a risk to let his guard down. Alexis had let him continue thinking that, waiting, learning, and planning to make her escape.

The door rattled again. "Baby, come on."

Alexis took a deep breath. Show time.

The door was locked from the inside, and she shook the handle, pretending to be unable to open it.

"I can't," she called through the door.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I think it's stuck."

"Did you lock it?" His voice had taken on a mean tone, and Alexis began to tremble. If this didn't work, she wouldn't be able to escape his anger.

"No!" she cried, her anxiety only partially fake. She carefully ignored the terrified voice in the back of her head that told her to stop. "No, you told me not to lock it. And I didn't! I listened to what you said. I wouldn't break the rules—"

"Christ," he muttered. "Okay, okay. Just shut up for half a second."

"Devin," she whined, fearfully egging him on. She couldn't give him too much time to think. Sloane wasn't stupid, and though the alcohol numbed his deviousness to a certain extent, Alexis knew if she didn't keep him occupied, he'd see through her pathetic ruse. "I'm claustrophobic, Devin! I can't stay in here. Get me out!"

She heard a clinking sound: glass on glass. Was he drinking more? Good. She licked her lips and prepared another verbal onslaught.

"Devin!" she shrieked, shaking the door again. "Why are you doing this to me? I've been good! Why are you punishing me?!"

"Jesus God, woman!" he cursed. "Fine! Just calm the fuck down. I've gotta get something to take the handle off..."

Alexis pressed her ear against the door, listening as his booming steps carried him away. The bedroom door slammed behind him. Excitement and fear poured into her veins. Had that actually worked? She quickly unlocked the bathroom door and hurried into the bedroom, half expecting him to jump out and attack her. Nothing. He'd really left the room.

This was the hard part, the part that would cause the most harm if she didn't succeed. The bedroom she'd been held in was locked from the outside. Even if she'd managed to take Sloane down in the bathroom, she still wouldn't be able to get out of the bedroom. Alexis grabbed a small, bronze lamp from the bedside table. It was heavy enough to do serious damage, and her sweaty hands held tight to it as she stood next to the bedroom door, waiting for Sloane to return.

He heard a key in the lock, and her heart sped up so fast she couldn't breathe. _Don't choke. Don't hesitate. This is your only chance._ Sloane pushed the door open, stepping directly into her line of fire. The lamp made a satisfying thunk on the side of his head.

"The fuck?!" he yelped, falling sideways, disoriented by the force of the blow.

Alexis shoved him out of the way, pushing the door open, and as she stepped into the hallway, something sharp dug into the back of her calf, dragging downward. She shrieked as her leg was pulled out from under her and she hit the floor, catching most of her weight on her hands and arms. Something hot and wet slid down the back of her leg, and she screamed at the sight of Sloane stumbling toward her. A bloody screwdriver fell from his hand and onto the carpet. She pushed herself back, trying desperately to get away from him.

"You little bitch!" he slurred, blood poured down the side of his face as he groped in his pockets. A syringe flashed in his hand before he lunged at her, and she caught his hand before it drove the needle into her neck. She couldn't let him drug her again. It would be all over. She wouldn't be able to fight anymore. While both of her arms were busy keeping the needle at bay, he punched her in the face, the blow landing on her already bruised cheekbone. Her head slammed against the carpet at the force of the blow, and for half a second, she lost focus. The sharp edge of the needle tickled her skin, leaving shallow scratches. Some of the drug oozed out of the needle and onto her neck. With a desperate gasp, she pulled her knee up and jammed it into his crotch.

All the air left his lungs in a wheeze, and Alexis leapt at the small window of opportunity. She twisted his wrist back until the syringe fell to the floor, totally unprepared when his free hand wrapped around her slim throat. His weight settled over her, and she bucked her hips to loosen his hold.

"You've always been more trouble than you're worth," he snarled at her. "No more. You need a reminder of who's really in charge here." The hand she'd just disarmed gripped ruthlessly at her thigh, and her underwear was torn away with a loud rip.

Alexis sputtered, spots appearing in her vision as she flailed beneath him. NO! No, she'd been so close! Rosie kicked around inside of her like she knew something was wrong.

"You belong to me. You and that baby. You're both mine." He squeezed her throat harder for emphasis, leaning close. "And as soon as that little bitch is out of you, I'm selling her off to the highest bidder."

Sloane's words echoed in Alexis' darkening mind, and something inside her shattered. Her palm slapped against the carpet, her fingers wrapping around the syringe. She let her body go limp, loosening Sloane's hold for one precious second as she slammed the needle into his flesh. The plunger was mercilessly pressed in, depositing the tranquilizer into his bloodstream. She didn't let go, not when anger made his fingers dig deeper into her flesh, not when her vision faded to white and her chest screamed for air.

Slowly, his grip on her throat loosened, and he slumped forward. Alexis pushed him off of her and scooted back, gasping, her body shaking as small whimpers escaped her abused throat. Sloane's cold eyes locked on hers as he fought to stay conscious. "I'll... find you." His breath came in labored gasps, and after far too long, his eyes fell shut.

Without even a moment to celebrate her victory, Alexis crawled over to Sloane, searching his pockets for a cell phone. Nothing. Where would he have hid it? Pain shot up her calf, and blood seeped down to her ankle. Her head spun, and she forced herself to her feet, leaning hard against the wall. Rosie was moving inconsolably, and Alexis pressed her hand against her belly. Her abdomen cramped hard, and she barely held back the shriek of pain. Warm fluid gushed down her thighs.

"No," she whispered, pressing her palm harder against her belly, against her daughter's fluttering movements. "It's too soon. You're not supposed to come out yet."

Alexis glanced over at Sloane's prone form. He would wake up, and he'd hunt her down. She had to get out. She had to save her baby. That was all that mattered.

Step by excruciating step, Alexis forced herself forward. She found the front door and pushed it open. Frozen air wrapped around her, snowflakes sticking to her skin, and her eyes landed on a pair of large, men's boots next to the door, along with a coat. The coat smelled like cigarettes, whiskey, and Sloane's soap. She slid her bare feet into the boots and her arms into the coat, which covered her from shoulder to thigh. Snow and barren trees spread out in front of her as far as she could see into the dark night. She had no idea where she was. She knew, somewhere, in the back of her mind, that Sloane would have needed a vehicle to get here. His man, Donovan, drove up to the house sometimes, too. The tire tracks in the snow said that much. She didn't know where he kept the keys; she didn't know if the garage required a code, and she didn't want to lose precious time searching.

Another cramp split her abdomen in two, and she whimpered, tears slipping down her face. She had to get out. She needed to leave; she needed to get help. Her over-sized boots sank into the snowpack as she walked parallel to the road, leaning against the trees to stay upright. Blood spotted the snow behind her. Chills ripped up and down her body, but she kept moving, she kept putting one foot in front of the other, hoping and praying that help wasn't far away.

* * *

Kevin sprinted to the front door before the car was even in park. The front door was wide open, and cold air seeped into the house.

"Alexis!" he yelled, out of breath from his short run to the door. He steadied himself against the wall for a moment, breathing deeply. A small splotch of blood stained the left side of his shirt. He left the foyer, searching the house, and soon came upon Sloane's prone form on the carpet. Blood splatters stained the floor along with a bloody screwdriver. A syringe was sticking out of his neck. Kevin approached him slowly, then realized the man wasn't breathing. He checked for a pulse. Nothing. Sloane was dead. He'd been killed by his own drug. Relief flooded through him, freezing in his blood when his eyes landed on the torn panties in Sloane's dead hand.

No.

Kevin stormed from one room to another, stopping in a small bedroom with no windows. There was something about the room, something about the energy... He stepped inside, noting the messy bedclothes and the dirty laundry piled in the corner. A satin negligee lay over the headboard, and anger and nausea almost knocked his feet out from under him. No, he couldn't think about that right now. He couldn't fall apart. Not while she was still out there, still missing. Kevin searched through the house, calling her name, desperate for some indication of where she'd gone.

Once his search had proved fruitless, Kevin circled back to the body, looking for clues that he might have missed in his haste. Tiny drops of blood marked the carpet leading to the front door. Sloppy, red-tinged bootprints picked up outside the door. Fear slammed into him. Alexis was out in the cold. She'd gotten away and was on the run.

Kevin rushed into the kitchen, stopping at a toolbox on the table. He dug through it until he found a flashlight, then turned his cell phone back on. He texted Shields three simple words. "Outside. Bring help."

Flashlight in hand, Kevin sprinted out into the frozen darkness after her.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Heart of Stone

by:

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Nineteen

"I surrender who I've been for who you are." —Sleeping at Last, "Turning Page"

* * *

Alexis stumbled through the snow, chilled to the bone. A contraction flared hard enough to stop her in her tracks, and she leaned hard against a tree, gritting her teeth with a pained groan. Rosie kicked hard against her womb, and Alexis slumped to her knees. Her skin burned against the frozen ground.

Exhaustion weighed heavier with each breath. She'd never been so tired in all her life... No, she had to get up. She had to keep moving.

The contraction slowly abated, and Alexis shakily forced herself to her feet again. Each time she fell, it was harder to get back up. Her feet were aching and blistered in the too-large boots; her calf screamed with every other step, often buckling under her body weight; blood sprinkled the ground behind her; every time the laceration clotted, a painful brush with the snow opened it back up. Air squeezed in and out of her frozen lungs as her heartbeat echoed in her ears and everywhere there was the icy hell she could never escape.

A gust of frigid wind lifted her hair, and she thought she heard someone calling her name. Sloane? Had he already woken up? Was he hunting her down? She picked up her pace, her steps stuttering as another contraction sent a devastating quake through her body. She gripped her belly, barely staying upright. How many minutes had that been? Alexis knew with dreadful certainty that the contractions were getting closer together.

"Not yet, baby," she gasped, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes, cooling on their way down her chilled skin. "Not yet..." She didn't know how she was going to survive this.

Another gust of wind poured ice into her bones, and Alexis swayed. Her head was foggy and getting foggier. She kept moving, bracing herself from tree to tree. Scratches appeared on her face and hands as she clumsily moved forward, stumbling against the snow pack, catching herself hard on the frozen bark.

Her legs trembled beneath her. She couldn't keep going much longer. She needed to rest, if only for a few moments. She needed to find a safe place...

Alexis spotted a dry patch of ground underneath several low-hanging branches and stumbled over to it. She immediately fell to her knees, crawling beneath the branches, and leaned back against the trunk, wrapping Sloane's coat tighter around her body.

Her frozen fingers pressed against her stomach, and she felt Rosie move in reply. The baby's movements were softer, gentler, almost comforting.

"Just give me a few minutes." Her eyelids had grown heavy; her body wasn't quite so cold. "Then we'll find help."

* * *

"Alexis!"

Kevin hurried through the snow, following the shoe prints and blood that marked his path. Every so often the marks were made bigger by impact. How many times had she fallen?

"Alexis!"

He rounded a corner, stopping when he realized her tracks had diverged from the path parallel to the road. At some point, she'd moved inward. His heart sank as he considered the possibility that she'd gotten lost.

Kevin followed her tracks for another hundred feet before they stopped on the outskirts of an overgrown pine tree. He shone his flashlight around the area and noticed a shock of red tucked away underneath the branches. He took a few steps forward, then crouched down. Alexis was slumped against the tree trunk, her head low, her arms wrapped around her middle. She wore a large, black coat and too-large boots. Her bare legs peeked out from under the fabric, looking so pale they were almost blue.

"Alexis!" He crawled over to her, resting his hands on her frozen cheek. A large bruise ran up the side of her face. She didn't move.

"Alexis?" He shook her gently. "Wake up!"

Nothing.

"No no no no. Don't you give up on me." He pressed two fingers against her neck, searching for a pulse. Her skin was ice cold. "Don't you give up on us."

He felt a gentle thrumming under his fingertips, and relief poured into him. She was still alive, for now. If he couldn't find some way to warm her up, she wouldn't survive the journey to safety.

Kevin tugged down the zipper of the large coat, unprepared for the sight of her torn negligee and bruised skin. He shook his head, setting aside the grief and fury for another time. He pulled her arms out of the large coat, then removed his own coat, still warm from the heat of his body, and slid her arms into it, buttoning as tight as it would go around her belly. He felt a familiar flutter against his hands as he secured the garment, and another weight lifted from his shoulders. The baby was okay, too. He replaced the large coat over her shoulders and zipped it up.

He needed to get them out of there—back to civilization and away from the cold.

"Alexis," he said urgently, shaking her a little harder. "Wake up!"

Slowly—too slowly—her large eyes opened. Her gaze jumped around, disoriented. Finally, those baby blues landed on him and widened in shock. "K-Kevin?" she rasped.

"Hi, sweetheart." The casual words paled in comparison to the emotion that poured off of him. Against all odds, they'd both survived to find each other again.

"Am I dead?"

"I'd never let that happen."

"How...?" She blinked, and he took her icy hands in his own, rubbing some warmth into them.

"It's gonna take a lot more than a gunshot to keep me away from you."

He saw her lower lip tremble, and she burst into tears, sobbing weakly. His arms wrapped around her, holding on tight.

"I thought I'd lost you."

"I know. I know, sweetheart. I thought I'd lost you, too." Emotion wrapped tight around his heart as he considered all the near-misses they'd been through. He pulled back, stroking her hair. "Let's get you out of here, okay?"

Her head bowed forward for a moment, and she whimpered, her entire body tensing.

"Alexis?"

Once the pain had passed, she slumped back again the tree trunk. "The baby's coming."

"What?"

"My water broke back at the house."

"And your contractions?"

"Getting closer." Her eyelids fluttered shut again. "I'm so tired, Kevin."

Fear trickled down his spine and chills penetrated his skin. He needed to get her back to civilization, and fast. "Can you walk?"

She didn't answer, and he shook her shoulders. "Alexis!"

Her unfocused eyes cracked open.

"Stay with me," he begged. "You do not get to give up. Do you understand me?"

She slowly blinked at him, exhaustion etched into every line of her body.

"Can you walk?" he repeated.

"I can try."

He guided her out from under the tree, and for several hundred feet she leaned heavy against him, barely capable of putting one foot in front of the other. Without warning, her knees buckled as another contraction split her open. Kevin lifted her into his arms, straining under her weight. She wasn't much heavier than normal—it seemed like she'd actually lost weight since he'd last seen her—but thanks to the hole in his chest and subsequent blood loss, his stamina was at an all-time low.

"Talk to me," he grunted as he forced each foot in front of the other. "Alexis?"

"I'm cold."

"Talk about something else," he said with a hollow laugh.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the house."

"No!" She wiggled a little bit in his arms and he barely managed to hold onto her. "We can't go back there! He'll take the baby."

"No, he—"

"He said he was going to sell her."

Anger hit him fast, spurring him forward. "He's dead. He's not going to hurt either of you ever again."

Silence settled in for a moment, and Kevin thought he might have to jog her into staying awake again. Her body seemed devoid of strength, and she was clearly disoriented, like the contractions were the only thing keeping her conscious and grounded.

"I love you," she said softly.

Kevin stopped in his tracks, looking down at her with wide eyes.

"I never told you—I never said it. But you deserve to know. Even when you left, even when I found out the truth about you, I never stopped loving you."

Ice-cold tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he forced himself to keep moving forward. "Don't."

"Kevin—"

"Alexis, don't. You're not dying tonight. I told you I wouldn't let that happen, and I'm going to keep that promise. So stop trying to say goodbye."

Kevin trudged onward, holding Alexis tight in his arms, ignoring the exhaustion and cold that was wrapping around him. He'd been diligently following their tracks, but it seemed like they were never any closer to the house. She must have gotten a lot further than he thought.

The next contraction took them both by surprise and Alexis' grip on his neck became almost suffocating as she muffled her cry of pain against his chest. For almost a full minute, she was curled tight, sobbing weakly, and then, just as quickly as it started, she was released. She went limp in his arms, panting.

"You okay?"

Her mumbled reply seemed like a no.

Voices and light cut through the woods around them, and Alexis instinctively shrank back into Kevin's arms.

"We're here!" he called out.

Moments later, police and medical crews burst onto the scene, led by Castle and Beckett.

"Alexis!" Castle cried, running so fast he was stumbling through the snow pack.

"Daddy?" she gasped through blue lips.

Castle reached them in a heartbeat, and Kevin set Alexis on her feet. She threw herself at her father, sobbing. Castle held on tight, weeping, "I knew I'd find you. I never gave up. I love you so much, baby."

Guilt burned at the edges of Kevin's heart. He couldn't forget for a moment that he'd been the one to keep them separated for seven months.

Alexis groaned, curling forward.

"What's the matter?" Castle asked.

"She's going into labor," Kevin said in a panic. Kate draped a blanket over his shoulders. "Tell me there's an ambulance up here."

"By the house," Kate answered. "Maybe a hundred yards or so."

"It's too soon," Alexis grunted, gripping her father's hand until the worst of the contraction had passed. She swayed to the side as soon as it released hre, and Castle lifted her into his arms, rushing to the ambulance.

"Here." Beckett helped Kevin lean on her as they moved slowly behind the other two. "You're bleeding again."

"Probably tore my stitches. It's fine."

"Thank god you found her."

"Thank god you two found us," Kevin confessed. "I was ready to crumble."

"You wouldn't have—not when she needed you to stay strong."

Once they got to the scene, paramedics were already wrapping Alexis in warming blankets, preparing to transport her to the hospital. She winced as another contraction steamrolled her, and Kevin saw a paramedic start a timer.

"Kevin?" she called out in a panic, and he rushed to her side, ignoring the frown her father sent her from the opposite side of the gurney.

"I'm here."

"It's too soon," she repeated fearfully. "She's too little."

He stroked her frozen, wild hair. "She's gonna be okay."

"You're bleeding," one of the paramedics said, trying to help him out. Kevin brushed them off.

"I'm fine."

He stayed at her side as the paramedics prepared her for transport. Her contractions were nine minutes apart. At the rate they were progressing, it was unlikely that anything could be done to stop them or delay Alexis' labor. For better or worse, Rosie was making her grand entrance. Javier's words spun through his mind, and Kevin took a deep breath, pleading with any greater power that would listen to keep his daughter safe from complications.

A hand landed heavy on Kevin's shoulder. "I see you survived," Shields said, "despite not following my orders."

"I had better things to do," Kevin answered.

The medical team began pushing the gurney to the ambulance, and he moved to follow.

"Hey," Shields said, reaching out and grabbing his arm. "We're not finished yet."

"Kevin?" Alexis yelled as the paramedics loaded her into the back of the ambulance. "Kevin?!"

Kevin shrugged his arm away. "I've already missed the birth of one daughter. I'm not missing another."

"You're not in charge here."

"Dammit, Shields, you know where to find me!" He stormed toward the ambulance, where Alexis was still yelling for him. Castle stepped in his way, and Kevin glared at him while Alexis cried out for him from the ambulance. He tried to be patient, to remind himself that the writer's feelings were more than justified. His patience was running thin.

"She needs me," Kevin said softly.

"You're the one who got her into this mess in the first place."

"Kevin?" Alexis cried. Kevin heard her yelling at a paramedic, telling them they couldn't leave yet.

"And I'm not going to let her go through it alone."

"She's not alone. She has me," Castle insisted.

 _"Kevin?!"_

Kevin stared at the writer for a long second, letting the weight of Alexis' anguished cries sink into his ears. He watched the man's resolve slowly crumble.

He stepped aside, his voice low. "I'll never forgive you for what she's been through."

"Glad to see we're on the same page. I'll never forgive myself, either." Kevin climbed into the ambulance and found a place next to Alexis.

"I'm here," he said softly, kissing her forehead and taking her hand into his own.

"Don't leave me again."

"I won't. I promise."

Shields stood with Castle and Beckett, who watched their exchange. The writer sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"We'll see you at the hospital," Beckett said. "Come on, Castle."

They left the agent standing in the snow alone.

* * *

Rick had never felt so helpless. He sat in the waiting area outside of Labor and Delivery, desperate for news of his daughter and granddaughter. Ryan was in the room with her, at her side through the labor process. Rick wanted to kill him.

He'd never forget the sight of Alexis, bruised, pale, half-frozen, wearing little more than a couple coats and oversized boots. Her eyes were disoriented, haunted; her belly strained against the fabric of her coats. He'd wept for joy upon holding her in his arms once more, but there was loss there, too. There was grief. His baby had been hurt, had been forced to endure things that would haunt her for a long time. Again. How could he have failed her so terribly, not once but twice?

When she'd gone missing all those months before, he'd never imagined their reunion would be like this: in the middle of a frigid night while Alexis stood on the cusp of motherhood. He didn't know how to process that.

It had taken Alexis years to heal from the last catastrophic loss, and even then, Rick had never quite gotten his daughter back. How long would this take? Because there was no way in hell this situation would lead her to any kind of happy ending. Her desperation to be with Kevin made him sick. Rick had seen the adoration and love in his daughter's eyes for that man before, the same man who'd put her through hell—the father of his only grandchild.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," Kate said softly.

"How am I supposed to be okay with this?"

"Castle, we found her. She's safe."

Rick didn't grace the comment with a response. It wasn't about her being safe. Of course he was grateful, relieved, _elated_ to know his daughter was finally home. It was the fact that she never should have been in that situation in the first place.

A nurse came out to greet them, and Castle searched her face for any sign of bad news.

"Mr. Castle?"

"How are they?"

"Mom and baby are both doing well. Do you want to see them?"

Tears pricked in his eyes, and he nodded, unable to speak. He and Kate followed the nurse to the birthing suite.

Alexis had never looked so exhausted or so happy. She lay back against the pillows, a tiny bundle in her arms. Her eyelids looked heavy, but she smiled down at her daughter. Kevin was next to them, leaning close, grinning like an idiot. Castle recognized the look in the man's eyes: Rick had worn that same expression the day Alexis was born.

"Dad," she said, her tired eyes flicking up to his. "Come meet Rosie."

His heart stuttered at hearing his granddaughter's name for the first time. Kevin stepped back, allowing Castle a moment of peace with his daughter. He looked down at his granddaughter, who watched him with large, blue eyes. She was tiny, tinier than Alexis had been. Her head was covered in a dusting of ultra-fine red hair. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"You want to hold her?"

Rick nodded again, and Alexis handed him the baby. He held Rosie in his arms, gently stroking her cheek with one finger.

"She's perfect," he said softly. "You did good, kid."

"Her full name is Roisin Alexandra Harper," she said. "I always liked your original middle name."

A few tears slipped down Rick's face, but he didn't feel ashamed. Whether he was Richard Edgar Castle, or Richard Alexander Rodgers, it was still humbling to learn his granddaughter had been named for him. For the first time in years, Rick caught a glimpse of the daughter he'd lost. "It's a good name."

Alexis gave him a small, tentative smile, and he felt some unspoken feeling pass between them. "I think so, too."

All too soon, the same nurse asked to take the baby down to the NICU. Rosie was stable, but too small, and after what Alexis had been through near the end of her pregnancy, the medical staff wasn't taking any chances. Alexis had been allowed some time with her once she was born, but the newborn would have to be under observation until she'd gained enough weight to go home.

Alexis kissed her baby. "I'll see you soon," she whispered.

Kevin stroked Rosie's ultra-fine hair back, murmuring to her in a language that Rick couldn't understand, then handed her to the nurse. As soon as the baby had left the room, a bittersweet somberness settled in. He watched Kevin wipe fresh tears from Alexis' cheeks and offer her water from the bedside table, bringing the straw to her lips. All at once, Rick felt like he was invading on a very private moment.

Kate took his hand. Her touch was soft and her eyes were a bit sad. "Let them have this."

With a shaky breath, he nodded, and Kate hugged Kevin briefly and then Alexis for a lot longer, speaking quietly in her ear. That same, small smile pulled at his daughter's lips. Castle kissed her forehead, ignoring Ryan completely.

"I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

"I'll be here."

Kate took his hand again, leading him out of the room. "Have you called your mother yet?"

"I will in the car."

"You okay?"

"Not completely."

Kate nodded. "Well, this will cheer you up: we get to go home and tell Johanna her big sister is safe and sound."

He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. "That does sound nice. Think we should tell her she's an aunt?"

She snorted. "I figured we'd break the news to Martha first. It's not every day a woman becomes a great-grandmother."

"Lord, help us."

* * *

Pregnancy was the hardest thing Alexis had ever done—until it was time to give birth. Despite Rosie coming early and Alexis' contractions getting a head start, she felt like it took years for her body to deliver her baby. After the fact, Kevin had told her it had only taken about four hours from the time they arrived at the hospital. There were so many moments when she didn't have the strength to keep going, to keep pushing, to simply not pass out. Kevin had been her greatest help through it, encouraging her, reminding her to breath and guiding her rhythm, wiping the sweat away from her face and neck, and offering her those damn ice chips when she was allowed to stop pushing. He never once complained when she crushed his hand in her pain-filled grip.

When Alexis saw her daughter for the first time, she knew it was worth it. The painful labor, the torture, the loneliness, every bit of angst and hurt she'd felt—it had all been worth it. In that moment when Rosie's blue eyes had locked on her own, Alexis realized she had no idea what love really was. Her entire world, heart, and soul were irrevocably changed.

Kevin seemed just as in love with their baby, and Alexis loved watching the two of them together. There was a lightness to Kevin's countenance that she hadn't seen in years. He'd waited a long time to be a father again.

It had almost killed Alexis to let the nurse take her baby down the NICU, but she understood. Rosie had come early, she'd been exposed to strange things, and she was just under four pounds. Alexis was grateful that the medical staff was taking such good care of her, that she'd been allowed to have that special moment with her in the first place, but she missed her terribly.

After the baby and her father were gone, the nurse came in and disconnected Alexis from her various IVs and Kevin had helped her take a shower. She caught his eyes lingering on her bruises, but he didn't ask. She didn't know how to tell him what she'd endured, the depths she'd fallen to in her fight for survival. Her clothes had been taken as evidence, which she was fine with. She never wanted to see any of them ever again. One of the nurses had scrounged up a hairbrush for her, and Alexis reveled at the feeling of warmth, cleanliness, and safety. It had been far too long.

"We can go see her tomorrow," Kevin said softly, stroking her hair back.

After some convincing, he'd joined her in the hospital bed. His chest pressed against her back enveloping her in his warmth. They'd have to move once the nurse came back in to check on her, but for now Alexis was taking every moment with his that she could get.

"You mean later today?" The sun was just starting to peek in through the windows, and neither of them had slept.

"You should try to get some rest."

She nodded. Despite her exhaustion, the events of the last few hours had her keyed up, almost loopy. "It's weird," Alexis admitted, pressing a hand against her belly, "not feeling her move. It's kind of lonely."

Kevin took her hand. "You're not alone."

She squeezed his hand in reply, turning to look at his face. "I couldn't have done this without you."

His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and words slipped quietly out of his mouth. "I'm so sorry I left that night. I can't help but feel like none of this would have happened to you if I had just stayed, if I hadn't been so determined to take care of everything on my own. I messed up, Alexis."

"You couldn't have known this would happen."

She saw him hesitate, like the words were on the tip of his tongue, and she knew what he was going to ask.

"Kevin—"

"How badly did he hurt you?"

She felt Kevin's gaze on her as she processed the words. She couldn't look at him without remembering how quickly she'd betrayed him.

"Alexis?"

His fingers pressed under her chin, and then Kevin tilted her head up, and she saw something akin to heartache in those endlessly blue eyes. "Please tell me."

Tears slipped down her face as she shared her side of the story, her account of the time they'd spent apart. When she finished, Alexis sat in silence, waiting for him to process her words. Would he hate her for giving in?

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know what else to do. I—"

He pulled her into his arms and she just cried harder, repeating those words like a broken record. She felt his chest heave, and he held her a little tighter. "You're safe now," he said, his voice cracking. "That's all that matters."

"You forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive."

"You still love me?" she asked.

He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Always."

"Say it."

His lips trailed down to her ear, each kiss soothing her in a way that nothing else could. "I love you, Alexis."

She sank into his embrace as his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. "I love you, too."

* * *

Author's Note: I'm posting early because of the amazing response to chapter eighteen. Keep it up! I'd love to know what you think!


	20. Chapter Twenty

Heart of Stone

by

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Twenty

"Go sound. Go safe. Open hands are hard to hold onto anyway." — Ingrid Michaelson, "Open Hands"

* * *

"Lexis!"

Alexis jolted awake as her not-quite four-year-old sister vaulted onto the hospital bed. Tiny arms wrapped around her middle, and Alexis instinctively hugged her back. It had been far too long since she'd seen her. "Hi Josie," she mumbled, blinking rapidly in an attempt to rouse her drowsy, disoriented body.

"Johanna," Castle scolded softly, a few feet away from the bed. "Remember what we talked about in the car? You have to be gentle with Alexis right now."

"It's okay, Dad," Alexis smiled. "I missed her, too."

"Daddy said you had a baby!" The miniature Kate Beckett doppleganger exclaimed.

"I did." The redhead forced a smile to her face, but it was bittersweet. She missed Rosie already.

"Where is it?"

"I'll take you to see her later, honey," Castle answered, saving Alexis the trouble of explaining why Rosie wasn't with them. Then Alexis noticed a familiar form peeking out from behind her father, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

"Hi, Gram," Alexis said softly, taking in her grandmother's concern and grave expression. For the first time that Alexis could remember, the vivacious, tough Martha Rodgers looked old and tired.

In a few short steps, Martha's arms were around her granddaughter. Alexis had no idea how much her grandmother knew about everything, but judging by the elder redhead's expression, Alexis looked a little worse for wear. Martha held her close, and Alexis hugged her back just as tightly.

"That bad, huh?" Alexis asked with a watery smile.

"No," her grandmother whispered. "You look beautiful, sweetheart. I've just missed you."

"I missed you too, Gram." Happy tears slipped down Alexis' face. Her grandmother sat back, forcing a somewhat pained smile to her face. "I've heard all about my gorgeous, new great-granddaughter. I can't wait to meet her."

"Grammy," Johanna interrupted, "why are you crying?"

Martha dabbed at the corners of her eyes, and pulled Johanna in for a hug. "I'm so happy to see your big sister. It's been too long."

For several long minutes, Alexis basked in the glow of her long-lost family. She was so happy to see them, so relieved that the nightmare she'd been living for so long finally seemed to be over. Martha asked about the baby, how she was doing, how Alexis was doing, when she could be expected to bring her home, skirting to the safe edges of the vulnerable topics, because everything was a trigger. And though the avoidance had a unique discomfort all it's own, like stepping out into too-bright sunlight, your eyes tearing and slamming shut from even the most glancing of rays, Alexis understood. Everything was so sharp, and they were all so vulnerable. The trauma of her disappearance and sudden re-appearance plus one bore down on them, but they hadn't yet found the words to talk about it. Alexis still didn't know what to think of it all.

A nurse came in bearing a tray, and Alexis realized that she didn't remember the last time she'd eaten something. Her stomach cramped in hunger and nausea, feeling almost like Rosie's earliest movements. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the nurse set the food on the tray in front of her and proceeded through a brief exam.

"Mother, why don't you take Johanna down to the cafeteria?" Castle suggested. "We'll let you know when it's time to go see the baby."

Alexis smiled at him gratefully and hugged both her sister and grandmother one more time. She knew her family had missed her terribly. She'd missed them too, but she needed some space to process, to let reality sink in as she ate microwaved mashed potatoes and sipped ice water through a straw from a mauve-colored cup.

As soon as the nurse and her female family members left the room, Alexis reached for her fork, trying to ignore the tears that still hadn't stopped running down her face. Her father placed a box of tissues on the food tray, and she pulled one out with a sniffle. "Ugh, post-partum hormones are the worst," she joked weakly, wiping her face. "Where's Kevin?" Foolishly, she'd expected him to be right there beside her when she woke up.

Her father grimaced. "He's with Kate and the agent leading your case."

Something sour twisted in her stomach at both her father's obvious displeasure and the implications of his words. She'd only just gotten him back again. She wasn't ready to lose him in the reality of their twisted situation. "He's going to prison, isn't he?"

"Don't worry about that right now. You need to take care of yourself."

"Do I really look that bad?"

He squeezed her hand. "That shiner isn't doing you any favors," he admitted. "But it's more that you've been gone so long and, well, we never imagined we'd find you under these circumstances."

She took a shaky breath as another wave of tears and emotion plowed over her. She'd never imagined being in those circumstances, either. And not once in her several-month-long captivity did she realize how impossible it would be to simply wake up one morning back in the life she'd had before. Everywhere she looked, there were fresh wounds from her disappearance. She saw them on the faces of her family members, she felt them inside her chest, etched across her mind. For so long, Alexis had been fixated on simply finding her way home and making sure that Rosie was brought safely into the world. She'd never imagined that she'd still be that anxious person, treading water against her own emotions.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wiping her face with more tissues.

"Take your time," Castle said simply. "After you're finished eating, we can go see Rosie."

And she did take her time, mechanically feeding herself even as that salty wetness streamed down her cheeks. Only once did she have to set her food aside, her chest heaving with emotion that she didn't quite understand but still demanded to be felt. Castle had held her close, letting her cry it out on his shoulder. He didn't offer platitudes or sweet nothings or even attempt to solve the ache in her chest and the feeling that she'd been pulled apart and put back together in the wrong order, pieces missing, some crammed together, others clanking around inside her. He was simply there, without judgment or agenda or expectation. She really could take all the time she wanted and cry as much as she needed. It was okay. And those tear-sodden mashed potatoes? She didn't need to finish them. She could set them aside. That was okay, too. It was enough that she was safe. The rest was just icing.

Finally, her tray mostly empty, the tissue box half-depleted, Alexis was beginning to feel somewhat human.

"How long did I sleep?" she asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"About thirteen hours. How do you feel?"

"Sore." She smiled shakily. "But I'm happy to see everyone again."

He squeezed her hand, barely containing the emotion in his eyes. "I'm happy to see you, too. Your mother is flying out as we speak."

That familiar weight of expectation pressed against her shoulders. Alexis glanced down at her blanket. "How much does she know?"

"Just that we found you. She's been hounding me for months, as if I wasn't already expending every effort to bring you home." Her father's voice took on a bitter tone, and Alexis found herself shrinking back as guilt colored the world around her. Her family had been worried sick, falling apart, while she'd been, what? Reading baby books and having sex with Kevin?

Alexis winced. "I know this isn't how you envisioned any of this—"

"It's not, but that doesn't mean I'm not happy to have you back. I just… I can only imagine what you've been through. Being kidnapped, drugged, locked up by someone you thought you could trust—"

"It wasn't—" Alexis tried.

"Sweetheart, you've been through so much because of him."

Alexis shook her head, both to refute her father's anger the brutal honesty of his words. "I love him, dad. Kevin's done nothing but love and protect me. He's Rosie's father. You used to consider him a friend."

"That was before he got you pregnant and locked you up for seven months!" Castle snapped, seemingly reaching the end of stoic acceptance. "Before he disappeared, broke you so badly that I thought you would never recover, and then dragged you into his dark, secret world when you finally found him!"

Alexis was wide-eyed with her father's outburst. She shook her head again, tears escaping down her cheeks. She didn't want to talk about it. It was too fresh, too soon. And she certainly didn't want to argue about it with the father she'd missed for months on end. "I forgave him. I forgave him for all of that."

"That doesn't make it okay."

Didn't it though?

A knock at the door interrupted their argument, and a blond woman in a tailored pantsuit stepped in.

"Miss Harper, is everything okay in here?"

What a stupid question. Alexis fought back the urge to snort and roll her eyes. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Special Agent Silverman. I've been working on your case. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Of course she minded. "Now's not a great time," she managed.

The agent was undeterred. "I understand, but I will need to get your statement sooner or later. The sooner I can speak with you, the sooner you can put this behind you." She paused, watching Alexis' reacting and carefully weighing her words. "And your cooperation will help Kevin."

The obvious manipulation grated, but Alexis sighed, glancing at her father. She wasn't ready to continue her argument with him, either. "Fine."

"Alexis," her father began, "you don't have to do anything until you're ready."

"I know. It's fine," she said again, trying to convince both Castle and herself. "Do you want to get Gram and Johanna?"

"I can stay, if you want me to."

She nodded and curled her fingers around his. "I'd like that."

Agent Silverman took a seat on the opposite side of the hospital bed, pulling out a recorder and turning it on. Alexis took a deep breath, determined to remain calm. She wanted to get through this. The sooner she was done with this, the sooner she could see Rosie, the sooner her life could pick up where she'd left it.

"Okay, Miss Harper, can you recount the events that brought you to Kevin Nolan's apartment last spring?"

"Don't call him that!" The violent reaction to the name surprised everyone in the room, and Alexis could barely contain the shudder that had crawled up her spine.

Agent Silverman blinked at her. "That's his name."

"Not to me."

"Alright then. I'll call him Kevin Ryan if that makes you feel better."

The kindness and almost microscopic inquisition in the agent's eyes made Alexis look away. "Thanks."

"Let's start again. What brought you to Kevin's apartment last spring?"

Alexis took a deep breath. "I was at a crime scene." She swallowed thickly, remembering the blunt force against her vest and the acrid smell of gunpowder in her nose. "Sloane shot me, twice. I was wearing a vest... I tried to fight, but he overpowered me and drugged me. I woke up in this filthy room. There were bloodstains on the floor, and Sloane just started torturing me. I think he just liked causing me pain. He kept holding me underwater—" She shuddered.

"You're talking about Devin Sloane?"

 _Please, Devin. May I have my gifts?_

Another shudder tore across her body as ice settled into her veins. "Y-yes." She didn't want to face a single memory that involved that man. Her father took her hand, rubbing some warmth back into her fingers. "I killed him, didn't I?" she asked, realizing for the first time that the terrible turn her life had taken could follow her in more ways than one. Would she go to prison? What would happen to Rosie? Fractals bloomed across her breastbone. "I-I didn't mean to."

"Alexis," Agent Silverman said gently, "I need you to calm down. We've swept the scene and we ran a tox report. As far as the FBI and the NYPD are concerned, you acted in self defense. You're not in trouble."

It was Alexis' turn to blink in surprise. "Just like that?"

"I need to get your statement of what happened in the Liberty house, but yes. You've been through enough. We don't intend to prosecute you for trying to save yourself and your child from a madman."

The redhead exhaled shakily, leaning back against her pillows. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome." The agent smiled at her. "Now going back to your account. Devin Sloane had just abducted you and brought you to one of the syndicate's safe houses. When did Kevin step in?"

Confusion creased between Alexis' eyebrows. "How did you know Kevin was there?"

"He described the scene when he gave his statement several days ago."

"Then why do you need me to tell you about it?"

"Because he told me his side of the story, Miss Harper. I want to hear yours."

Alexis shook her head. She didn't want to tell her side. She didn't want to be forced to remember all the terrible things that had brought her to that point. Living them was difficult enough. She just wanted to be free of the agent and her questions and go see Rosie.

"Alexis," the woman said gently. "I can only imagine what you must be going through right now. Being held against your will for so long—while pregnant, no less."

"It wasn't like that."

"I'm sorry," Silverman said, confused. "I was told you were kidnapped and unable to leave."

"Sloane kidnapped me. Kevin saved my life."

"Will you tell me about that?"

Alexis sighed. She'd walked right into that one. "Kevin interrupted the torture. He stopped Sloane and brought me home with him."

"How did he do that?"

She frowned. "Don't you know how this story went already?"

"Again, I want to hear your side."

"Kevin pretended to buy me," Alexis mumbled, not immune to the tension that had slipped into her father's grip on her hand. She continued quickly. "I think Sloane had some connections in human trafficking, or maybe he was just fucking with Kevin. He knew who I was; I know now that he probably always knew who I was. He was playing me and Kevin the whole time, letting us think that we were safe."

"So Kevin bought you from Sloane and took you home?"

"Pretended," she corrected. "He didn't—I wasn't abused or anything. He just did it so Sloane would let him take me."

"Kevin told us that he paid Sloane a hundred and seventy thousand dollars to bring you home. I don't think that transaction was fake."

"Kevin never abused me," Alexis repeated sharply. "I know how this all sounds to you, but he never mistreated me."

The was a pause as her words hung in the room, the truth of them fragile enough to break with the slightest pressure. Agent Silverman frowned slightly. "Some might say that locking you up in his penthouse for seven months straight counts as abuse."

"He was just protecting me!" Alexis snapped. "He was keeping me safe because I had a fucking bounty on my head and a psycho that wanted me for himself. Kevin saved my life by keeping me there!"

Silence settled in for a moment. The agent and her father locked eyes, wordlessly communicating something that made Alexis' stomach twist. She worried at the hem of her blanket. "You don't believe me," Alexis said softly. It wasn't a question.

"I believe you, Alexis," Silverman said. "I believe you when you say that Kevin did those things to protect you, and I want to help both of you. But I need to know for certain that he's worth helping, and to know that I need your honest statement. Okay?"

Alexis nodded stiffly.

"After he brought you home, what happened?"

"I was sick for a while. I got pneumonia, and I—I went on a hunger strike to get Kevin to let me leave."

"It didn't work."

"No. It didn't. He, um, convinced me to eat and had his sister Brigid take care of my illness. That's about the time I found out I was pregnant."

"That must have been very frightening."

"It was," Alexis said, her voice thick with emotion. "But I couldn't have been better taken care of." The mental gymnastics were exhausting. Why couldn't they see that Kevin wasn't a bad man? Why couldn't they understand that the situation wasn't black and white?

"Did you ever try to escape?"

Alexis shook her head. "I didn't know the code to the elevator. I couldn't get out."

"But you wanted to leave?"

"At first, yes." Her eyes flicked up to her father's face. He still held her hand, but his gaze was focused away from her. The tension in his jaw looked strong enough to break bone.

"What changed your mind?" Silverman asked.

Alexis sighed, her mind moving through the memories from just a few months earlier. "Kevin explained his past, and his connections to the syndicate. I realized that if I tried to leave, Sloane or someone else would just hurt me or my family. It was easier to stay with Kevin. I was safe there and..." she trailed off, her voice soft. "I guess I just got used to it." She shook her head again, not at all satisfied with the answers that had been pulled out of her. "What are you trying to get me to say here, Agent Silverman? What do you want to know about Kevin that his testimony didn't tell you?"

"You've seen the best and worst of him, Alexis. And whether you're willing to accept it or not, you're both his victim and the only person in the world he'd give anything to protect. I want to know if, after everything you've learned, after everything you've been through, you believe he's worthy of redemption."

"Of course he is," Alexis insisted, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the question. "He's a good man."

"Why do you believe that?"

The redhead was silent for a beat, considering every moment of the last seven months: the good, the bad, the indifferent, and those memories that would haunt her for a long time to come. Almost every single one of them revolved around the man who had changed her life in more ways than she'd ever be fully cognizant of. Maybe he had made mistakes, and maybe those mistakes were bigger and more hurtful than Alexis would currently admit, but those mistakes had been made for the right reasons. "Because it's the truth."

Agent Silverman's smile was forced to the point that it looked genuinely painful. Her father didn't seem able to look at her. "Okay," the woman said with a breakable sort of brightness. "I have just a few more questions, and then we'll be done here..."

* * *

Kevin had gotten about forty minutes of sleep, his chest pressed against Alexis' back in the hospital bed, before Shields had pulled him away. The last twelve hours had blurred together in an amalgamation of questions, breaks for the restroom, longer periods when he dozed alone, his wrist cuffed to the chair in the hospital conference room, and a hastily devoured lunch. At some point during the day/night/whatever the hell time it was, a paramedic had re-stitched the hole in his chest and given him another unit of blood.

Kevin needed a shower, a change of clothes, something soft on which he could catch a few hours of sleep, a toothbrush to wash away the gritty feeling in his mouth. Most of all, he needed to see Alexis and Rosie, but Shields was determined to keep him locked in that conference room until he was done with the Irishman. Personally, Kevin couldn't care less what Shields wanted because he knew where this would end: a lengthy trial and a prison sentence, Alexis forced to testify, both of their names dragged through the mud. And once Kevin finally did get to prison, it would only be a matter of time before one of his fellow criminals took him out as a favor to someone else, someone Kevin had put away as a cop or pissed off as heir apparent to Nolan's organization. Kevin knew exactly what to expect, what was to come. He simply wished Shields wouldn't waste what little time Kevin had left locking him up in a goddamn conference room. He should be spending that time with Alexis, with their daughter, telling them how much he loved them. Saying goodbye.

Kevin jolted up as Beckett and Shields entered the room, the door slamming, quite purposely, behind the agent.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Shields deadpanned as he took a seat across the table. Beckett sat next to Kevin as the agent dropped a file on the faux-wood surface. "Your audition results are in."

"Did I make the top three?" Kevin asked with a petulant yawn. "I really want that record deal."

The agent was unimpressed with Kevin's attitude. "There's a deal in your future, but if you want to spend the rest of your days with handcuffs and sarcasm, I can make that happen."

Kevin sat up straight, his wrist yanking against the cuff. "Wait, what?"

"I thought you might have a change of heart."

"What are you talking about?" Kevin pressed. "You're offering me a deal?"

"I've been given clearance to offer you a deal, yes," Shields clarified. "But you'll forgive me if I'm still not entirely on board with the amount of trust that would require."

"Beckett," Kevin said, irritated and exhausted with the agent's games. "What's going on?"

The police captain's brown eyes cut over to the agent, who gave her a curt nod. "The FBI wants you to go back in."

"Back in... to the syndicate?" Kevin's eyes went as large as saucers. "You're shitting me."

"In the last eighteen or so years, your grandfather's power has grown out of control," Shields explained. "There's a strong presence here in New York, obviously, but it's even worse in Ireland and parts of the UK. It's like a sickness. The FBI and Interpol have both been trying for years to take the syndicate down, but we've never been able to get close enough, and thanks to your little firebug stunt and the data wipe from the NYPD's servers, we're even further away from prosecution than we've ever been. This is where you come in. You are in a prime position to take Nolan's place and help us take it down from within."

Kevin's heart began to race. He'd only just escaped that terrible world. There was no way in hell he'd go back in just to add a few extra months or years to considerably shortened life, and certainly not to be in a position to call the shots, to order the the terrible things that happened to people. He'd rather die in prison. "What's in it for me?"

"You mean besides not going directly to prison?"

Kevin growled at the agent's levity, and Beckett put a hand on his arm to calm him.

"Freedom," she said. "A clean slate. A chance to see Rosie grow up."

All of the air was sucked out of the room. "What?"

"You can thank Captain Beckett for that. She's been playing interference with the Bureau on your behalf since they came across your involvement a few months back."

Kevin's eyes locked with Beckett's and she gave him a small smile. Gratitude pressed so hard against his heart that it was painful. She hadn't given up on him. Castle had, and the jury was still out on Esposito, but Beckett had been trying to help all along. "Kate..."

Do this job for us," Shields said, "and you can leave the Nolan name behind. For good. You can be Kevin Ryan again, or whoever else you want to be."

The weight of the agent's words rested heavy on Kevin's shoulders. He couldn't have heard him correctly. Shields had to be messing with him somehow. "You know what I've done. You know the crimes I've committed, and you know the crimes I'll have to commit to do this job for you. And after all that, you're just going to let me walk away?"

The man shrugged. "I think it goes without saying the job won't be easy. You're good. Really damn good. But even with your skill set, it's dangerous. Statistically, you'll be dead just a few months in. You'll get caught or some thug working under you will get greedy. It's a huge gamble, Kevin, but you and I both know it's the best chance you're going to get."

"The FBI must be pretty damn desperate to want to enlist someone like me."

"You have no idea." Shields gritted his teeth. "Believe me, if we had a better option, you and I wouldn't be having this conversation. But as Captain Beckett has informed me countless times, we all stand to benefit from this is you succeed. The world would be a safer place and everyone can live happily ever after."

Kevin shook his head. He knew better than to believe in happily ever after. Things were never that simple. "And when would I start?"

"The sooner, the better. I can give you an hour or so to say goodbye..." the agent trailed off, and Kevin read between the lines. An hour was a kindness, a luxury. He had sixty minutes and he wouldn't be getting a second more.

An hour. Once again, his world was shifting under him, pulling him away from the life he wanted. He'd just gotten Alexis back. He'd just met his daughter for the first time. Already, they were slipping through his fingers. It was three years ago all over again, except this time he had a very clear timetable. Each passing second ticked against his mind. He'd wanted more time to say goodbye.

"Kevin," Beckett said softly. "You know what you have to do."

He exhaled shakily. It was just like three years ago, except this time it got to be on his terms. This time, when he walked away and submersed himself once again in that dark and horrifying world, there was a chance to have a real future once it was all over. There was a chance to undo all the wrongs that had been committed in his family's name. All the wrong he'd committed himself. For the first time in three years, when Kevin thought about the future, he didn't imagine a steady decline followed by a gruesome end. This time, he saw a tiny redhead and her mother playing together in the snow.

Shields had been right. This was the best chance Kevin was going to get.

Kevin cleared the thick emotion from his throat. "I have some terms."

* * *

Rosie was tiny perfection in a tiny, pink blanket.

Alexis held her baby against her chest, mindful of the tubes that provided her newborn infant with life's necessities. For the first time since she'd woken up earlier that evening, Alexis felt at peace. She knew she should be scared, intimidated at the very least, by the tiny life in her arms. The fragile baby whose life and care Alexis had been entrusted with. She had some idea of what lay ahead: days in the NICU, monitoring Rosie' weight, her food intake, her basic functions; sleepless nights once she was able to bring her home; dirty diapers and a loss of the freedom to subsist on coffee and wine, to overwork herself and blow off steam by picking up the occasional stranger in a bar. The life in front of her was unrecognizable in comparison to the one she'd lived before Kevin had found her.

Surely her apartment had been rented, and Alexis would bet a year's salary that the hospital hadn't held her position in the residency program. She didn't know where she'd live, how she'd support herself and the baby, or even where her belongings had ended up. But none of that mattered. She had her family. Despite everything, Rosie was healthy for a premie and was progressing well. Alexis had everything she needed.

"I missed you," Alexis whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against her daughter's soft, ultra-fine hair. "I love you so much."

Her father had taken Gram and Johanna home. Johanna had oohed and ahhed at the line of babies in the NICU, laughing at Rosie's red hair and begging to hold her. Give it a few years, and Johanna and Rosie could be playmates. Her grandmother had wept when she'd seen Rosie, assuring her that they were tears of joy. Alexis understood. It was a lot to take in, to process, to try to reconcile. She was thankful for the peace and quiet in the NICU—just her and her baby.

"She's perfect," a soft voice said behind her, and Kevin plopped down in a chair next to her with a warm smile. "Just like her mother."

Alexis smiled back, but it didn't feel right. Her interview with Agent Silverman had forced her to question everything she thought she believed about the last seven months, and afterward, when her father had asked to speak to the woman in the hallway she'd overheard words like "survival mode" and "Stockholm Syndrome." Alexis had gone back to picking the hem of her blanket, resolutely ignoring the way the diagnoses had felt true and false at the same time and wondering what it meant that she couldn't decide which to choose. "Long time no see," she said softly.

"Shields wanted to go over some things." Kevin brushed a rogue strand of hair away from her face, and Alexis tensed for a moment. He dropped his hand with a frown. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up."

"It's okay," she said automatically, and then wondered if that was true. Alexis sighed. "I haven't been alone. Dad's been with me, and Gram and Johanna visited." She didn't mention her conversation with Agent Silverman. It was too close to admitting the fears and insecurities that had begun to take root in her mind. "Dad told me about Brigid. I'm so sorry."

Pain flashed behind his eyes, and he nodded, running his hand through his unruly hair. "Me too. She's stabilizing physically, so that's good news."

"And mentally?"

"There's no way of knowing until she wakes up. _If_ she wakes up," Kevin corrected himself.

Alexis didn't hesitate to take his hand, squeezing it gently. The gesture seemed to unravel all the tension that had been holding him together. He leaned forward, brushing his mouth over hers once, then twice. Alexis could taste the desperation on his lips. "What is it?"

Kevin didn't answer at first. He just stroked Rosie's sleeping face, smiling softly when she hummed and wrapped her hand around his finger. "Shields offered me a deal," he finally said.

The news was positive, but the way Kevin delivered it, with a sense of dull resignation, set Alexis on edge. "What do they want? Your testimony?"

"They want me to go back in. To help them bring the syndicate down from the inside."

Shock rooted her in place. Alexis knew firsthand how miserable Kevin had been; she knew firsthand the kind of evil, horrifying crimes the men of the syndicate committed. "You can't."

"I already said yes."

Alexis shook her head, and Kevin gently continued. "I've arranged for you and Rosie to get into witness protection while I'm gone."

"What?" she gasped.

"It's the safest place for you two. Until the syndicate is taken down, you're both at risk."

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

"Alexis—"

"Rosie has to stay in the NICU. She's not big enough to go home, much less hide away in some weird witness protection situation."

"We can work around that."

"And then there's the part where I'm not leaving New York. I've just been reunited with my family. I'm not leaving them. Why the hell does my life have to keep being uprooted because of your problems?" Anger had replaced shock, and it felt a hell of a lot better than the helplessness that had pressed against her mind when he'd broken the news.

"Alexis, try to see reason—"

"I am seeing reason. I'm not a child, and I'm not going into witness protection."

"What if they track you down?"

"Kevin, _they_ didn't find me the first time around. I was in New York for months and I was perfectly fine. _You_ were the one who found me."

Her accusation seemed to surprise both of them. Kevin looked like he'd been kicked in the gut. Alexis sighed, and placed Rosie back in her bed. She took Kevin's hand, leading him out of the NICU. The hallway was empty that late in the evening. "What are your other options?"

"Prison. Death. This is the best I'm gonna get, Alexis. I can't turn this opportunity down."

"What about being a better man?" she demanded. "What about being better than your family's legacy?"

"This is my chance to change that legacy, to try to undo some of the damage. The syndicate is vulnerable right now, and I can get in and take advantage of that. You being reunited with your family won't mean a damn thing if the organization keeps digging it's claws into New York. I'm trying to do the right thing here."

"And what about me? What about Rosie? You're just going to leave us?"

"It's my best option," he repeated. "If I do this, if I complete this job for them, I'm free. We can be together. We can be a family."

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. How long had she wanted a future with Kevin? And how long had that desire eluded her? Some logical voice inside her said this was for the best, that it was better than prison, better than death, but Alexis couldn't contain the panic and anger. "What if I don't want to be with you when you get back?"

Pain spread across his features so fast that Alexis felt its echo in her chest. "You don't mean that," he said.

She didn't know if she meant it or not.

"When are you leaving?" she asked, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.

"Soon." He swallowed thickly. "I'm supposed to say goodbye."

"So I guess that's it then."

"Alexis, don't be like this. I don't want to leave you with things like this."

She crossed her arms over her chest, protective instincts going full force. "Well, you can't always get what you want."

He grabbed her arms and pulled her against him. "I love you. I love you, okay? And I know you're hurting right now, and I know it's my fault, and I hate myself for it, but you have to know that I love you. If I never see you again—"

"Stop," she begged. Her defenses were paper thin.

"—know that I love you. Both of you."

The first sob ripped her chest wide open, and she crumbled against him, her arms as tight as they would go around his waist. "I love you, too. So much. Please don't do this."

"I'll come back for you," he whispered. "I promise. I won't leave you and Rosie alone."

The sound of a throat clearing behind them shattered the privacy of their moment. Alexis looked around Kevin's shoulder. Agent Shields was standing a little ways down the hall with Kate and her dad. A pair of handcuffs hung from the agent's hand. "It's time," he said.

Alexis grabbed Kevin's collar and mashed her mouth against his. She poured everything she had into that kiss, holding on so tight her fingers ached where they curled around the fabric. Kevin's arms squeezed around her waist, his hands and arms and mouth leaving imprints behind. When he began to pull back, Alexis held on tighter.

"No," she whispered. "Not yet."

His lips brushed against her forehead with a sense of finality.

"Kevin," she whined.

His fingers closed over hers, gently easing his shirt out of her grip. "Say it," he breathed. "One more time."

"I love you." She didn't need to ask what he meant, that sentiment was the reason her heart felt like it was chiseling its way out of her chest. "I love you, Kevin."

"I love you, too. I'll see you soon, okay?"

And then, before she could even realize what had happened, Kevin let go, and his hands were replaced by her father's, holding her tight as the man she loved stepped back.

"Take care of them," Kevin said to her father.

"You know I will."

Shields stepped up, taking each of Kevin's hands and securing them behind his back. The click of the cuffs snapping against his wrists sent fractures through Alexis' mind.

"No," she whispered.

The agent led Kevin down the opposite end of the hallway, and he looked back, his blue eyes locking on Alexis. There was fear there, and resignation. But there was also hope, and enough love to make Alexis' knees buckle. He looked determined, like his newfound purpose had lifted a heavy weight from his shoulders. Kevin truly believed in the happy future that he'd promised her. A haunted, keening noise tore its way out of her throat and her father's arms wrapped tight around her as she sank to the floor.

The two men turned the corner, and then, just like that, Kevin was gone.

* * *

Author's Note: For those of you who are freaking out because this story is marked "complete," don't worry. Alexis and Kevin's story isn't over yet. They'll return in _The Weight of Us_ , the final installment in this series, which I'll begin posting soon.

Endings are so hard for me. I've been planning this for months, since before _Heart of Stone_ began, and it still took me a month to actually write this final chapter. Thank you for your patience, and double thanks for your support. It means the world to me. Please continue the love; I'd love to hear your thoughts, as bittersweet as I'm sure they are. Don't worry about that too much, either. The healing will begin soon.

Until next time,

A.K. Hunter


	21. Acknowledgements

Hi everyone! This is a heads up to tell you that _The Weight of Us_ , the sequel to _Heart of Stone_ and the final installment in the _In My Veins_ trilogy, is now live on the website. I really hope you enjoy it! For those interested, I've also posted another Rylexis story called _In Pieces._ Both of these new stories can be found on my profile.

A million thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, or favorited _Heart of Stone_. Your support has meant the world to me, and continually encourages me to do the best I can with these stories.

I do have to thank one person in particular for helping make this story possible, and that's the amazing JJS4. Thank you, JJ, for always answering the Rylexis bat signal and helping me navigate this challenging story. This story wouldn't have been half as good without your input.

Thanks again, everyone, and happy reading!


End file.
